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Lathrop, but I cried over that letter; 'n' if some was the dust in my nose, the rest was real affection, for, Lord knows, when you 're scratchin' out mice 'n' cobwebs you ain't lookin' to find a relation none. But anyhow, there she was, 'n' if she ain't died in the mean time f'r the letter was wrote over fifty years ago I may know suthin' o' family life yet.
They walked across to the little party. "Where is Sergeant Abiboo?" asked Hamilton suddenly. "In gaol, sir," said Bones, promptly, "sentenced to death scratchin' his leg on parade after bein' warned repeatedly by me to give up the disgusting habit." "Where is Corporal Ahmet, Bones?" asked the frantic Hamilton. "In gaol, sir," said Bones.
"I got more whuppin's dan any other Nigger on de place, 'cause I was mean like my mammy. Always a-fightin' an' scratchin' wid white an' black. I was so bad Marster made me go look at de Niggers dey hung to see what dey done to a Nigger dat harm a white man. "I's gwine tell dis story on myse'f. De white chillun was a-singin' dis song: 'Jeff Davis, long an' slim, Whupped old Abe wid a hick'ry limb.
Down they go, kit an' kaboodle, twenty feet, bear, dawgs, an' Rocky, slidin', cussin', an' scratchin', ker-plump into ten feet of water in the bed of stream. They all swum out different ways. Nope, he didn't get the bear, but he saved the dawgs. That's Rocky. They's no stoppin' him when his mind's set." It was at the next camp that Linday heard how Rocky had come to be injured.
I vow, I wish one of these Bluenoses, with his go-to-meetin' clothes on, coat-tails pinned up behind like a leather blind of a Shay, an old spur on one heel, and a pipe stuck through his hat-band, mounted on one of these limber-timbered critters, that moves its hind legs like a hen scratchin' gravel, was sot down in Broadway, in New York, for a sight. Lord!
I b'lieve in fun too; I do sartain; but I don't b'lieve in scratchin' it into you with blackberry brambles, nor no other. Thank'e, Diany; maybe this'll help me get along with the afternoon." "I never thought you would mind blackberry thorns, Joe." "No more I don't, come in the way o' business," said Joe, sipping his coffee.
Instead of a regular gardener in livery like we ought to have, and a bulldog or a good Airedale or a fox-hound, or something, the first things you want intelligent people from out of town to see are that awful old darky and his mongrel scratchin' fleas and like as not lettin' 'em get on other people! THAT'd be nice, wouldn't it? Go out to tea expecting decent treatment and get fl " Mrs.
The man come back with Debby, but as soon as he saw great-grandfather he give one yell 'smallpox! and lit out for home. Folks was tur'ble afraid of it then an' he had seven children of his own an' nobody for 'em to look to if he died, so you couldn't blame him none. They was all like that then, every fam'ly just barely holdin' on, an' scratchin' for dear life.
"He once got warned himself, did old Thomas, so said he, 'Where do you intend to go master? 'Me, said the old man, scratchin' his head, and lookin' puzzled 'nowhere. 'Oh, I thought you intend to leave, said Thomas for I don't. 'Very good that, Thomas, come I like that. The old knight's got an anecdote by that, and nanny-goats aint picked up every day in the country.
Pretty soon a can o' milk come and went up in a basket that he let down from his winder. As he leaned out I saw his head, and it was a worse carrot than me own. Then along come a man with a bag o' coal on his back and a bit o' card in his hand with the coal-yard on it and the rat's name underneath, a-lookin' up at the house and scratchin' his head as to where he was goin'.
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