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You can gamble thar ain't been no funeral like it before or since. "At the last Peets hauls outen the stage we uses for Jack, a headboard. When it's set up it looks like if Jack ain't satisfied, he's shorely hard to suit. On it in big letters is: JaCK KinG LIfE AiN'T IN HOLDiNG A GOOD HAND BUT In PLAYiNG A PORE HANd WeLL. "'You sees, we has to work in a little sentiment, says Doc Peets.
I'm doin' more for the Southern Confedrisy. Y're allers a-blowin' while I'm allers adoin. Everybody knows that. Talk about the two Yankees y've killed, an' which nobody's seed, here I've brung two Yankees right outen their camps, an' have 'em to show. More'n that, they're gwine to jine we'uns." She indicated the two boys with a wave of her hand. Simmons seemed to see them for the first time.
"It's in the O.K. restauraw, when Missis Rucker, who's feedin' us our mornin' flap-jacks an' salt hoss as usual, turns to Old Man Enright, an' says: "'As soon as ever I've got the last drunkard fed an' outen the house, I'm goin' to put on my shaker an' go an' tell that Tucson Jennie Tutt what's on my mind.
Youse may not believe it, but after tryin' a half-hour 'n' findin' we couldn't even get them into a canoe at th' landin' 'thout upsettin' or knockin' th' bottom outen her, we had t' help them into a thirty-foot 'pointer' made t' carry a crew o' eight shantymen 'n' their supplies on the spring drives, 'n' then had t' pull our damnedest t' get them across th' lake 'fore they upset her, jumpin' 'round 't shoot at somethin' they couldn't hit!
"Solomon," said the Colonel severely, "what are you trying to say? Talk sense." "Sho's yuh bohn, Marse Cunnel; it's de libbin' truf I's tellin' yuh. Dat ha'nt has fotched dat chicken right outen de oven, an' it's vanished in de air." "You go out and bring that chicken in and don't let me hear another word." "I cayn't, Marse Cunnel, 'deed I cayn't. Dere ain't no chicken dere." "Very well, then!
Li'l' black Mose he jes drap' on he knees an' he beg' an' pray': "Oh, 'scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost!" he beg'. "Ah ain't mean no harm at all." "Whut for you try to take my head?" ask' de ghost in dat fearsome voice whut like de damp wind outen de cellar. "'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!" beg' li'l' Mose. "Ah ain't know dat was yo' head, an' I ain't know you was dar at all. 'Scuse me!"
"It'll die it'll die! Cut one er the lights outen Sam Mosbey's side called it a new fangled impendix name but he'll die he'll die!" "Sam's a-working out there on the barn roof right this minute, Squire, good and alive," said Mother Mayberry with a good-humored smile, while Miss Wingate cast a restrained though indignant glance at the doubting old magistrate.
"You stole that cayuse last night outen Stevenson's corral," continued Charley, merely as a matter of form. Charley believed that a man had the right to be heard before he died it wouldn't change the result and so could not do any harm. "Did I? Why " his forehead became furrowed again, but the events of the night before were vague in his memory and he only stumbled in his soliloquy.
You knowed he 'uz arter me; en if you run off, 'stid o' stayin' here to he'p him, he'd know dey 'uz somethin' wrong 'bout dis business, en den he would inquire 'bout you, en dat would take him to yo' uncle, en yo' uncle would read de bill en see dat you be'n sellin' a free nigger down de river, en you know HIM, I reckon! He'd t'ar up de will en kick you outen de house.
"Hit war right then I looked out an' seed ye," she said, simply, "an' 'peared like ye'd plum bodily walked outen them pages of handwrite. Thet's why I asked whether yore folks didn't dwell hyar onc't. Mebby we mout be kin." Cal Maggard shook his head. "My folks moved away to Virginny so fur back," he informed her, "thet hit's apt ter be right distant kinship."
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