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Ah, well, they're prisoners, so I will not be too hard upon them." Just then Tom Fillot left his post for a moment. "They must have got some grog below, sir, or they wouldn't keep on dancing like that. Nuff to tire anyone." "Oh, let them enjoy themselves," said Mark; "it's better than hatching plans to attack us."
Just common every-day people like myself. We put on no airs. Did you ever hear of Mrs. Meadows? And Mr. Rabbit? And Mrs. Rabbit?" "Dem what wuz in de tale?" asked Drusilla. "Yes," said Mr. Thimblefinger, "the very same persons." "Sho' 'nuff!" exclaimed Drusilla. "Why, we been hear talk er dem sence 'fo' we wuz knee-high." Sweetest Susan and Buster John said they had often heard of Mr.
"Dave use' ter b'long ter my ole marster," said Julius; "he wuz raise' on dis yer plantation, en I kin 'member all erbout 'im, fer I wuz ole 'nuff ter chop cotton w'en it all happen'. Dave wuz a tall man, en monst'us strong: he could do mo' wuk in a day dan any yuther two niggers on de plantation.
Down went horses and men while the girls screamed involuntarily, it all seemed so real. "It's a good thing we didn't plant no corn in that there field this season," observed Belix Apgar, Sandy's father, as he saw the charge. "That's right," agreed his wife. "There wouldn't have been 'nuff left to make a hominy cake." "Do it over again!" ordered the manager.
"Yes. sir, that 's so," went on the quiet voice; "'t was on'y a dog sure nuff; 'twa'n't even a boy, as ye say, an' ye ast me to be a fisher o' men. But I haint had no chance for that, somehow; mebbe I wa'n't fit for 't. I 'm on'y jest a poor old fisherman, Fishin' Jimmy, ye know, sir. Ye useter call me James no one else ever done it. On'y a dog?
"Wuss!" exclaimed the baker with profound contempt. "Eh?" snarled the little man with an evil upward glance at the other. "Jest this," cried Wilkes with heat. "The feller that hangs his feller man on slim evidence is a lousy, yaller skunk. Say he'd orter hev his belly tarred, an' a sky-rocket turned loose in his vitals. I sez right here the evidence against Jim ain't 'nuff to condemn a gopher.
Den he got a fine house, an' his ole wife warn't good 'nuff for him. Den dere war a young school-teacher, an' he begun cuttin' his eyes at her. But she war as deep in de mud as he war in de mire, an' he jis' gib up his ole wife and married her, a fusty thing. He war a mean ole hypocrit, an' I wouldn't sen' fer him to bury my cat. Robby, I'se down on dese kine ob preachers like a thousand bricks."
"They'll keep it up awhile," he said, as he huddled against the wall by the side of Will. "I knowed they would be up to some trick, but I didn't think 'bout them bowlders that lay thick on the mounting. They hev got 'nuff ammunition o' that kind to last a year, but arter a while thar arms will grow tired, an' then they'll grow tired too, o' not knowin' whether they hit or not.
"New people are coming all the time and they'll beat us in if we don't look out." His comrade shrugged. "Mebbe so; but s'posin' dey do. Wat's de hodds? She's beeg countree; dere's plenty claims." "Are there, really?" Phillips' eyes brightened. "You're an old- timer; you've been 'inside. Do you mean there's plenty of gold for all of us?" "Dere ain't 'nuff gold in all de worl' for some people."
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