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She looked hard and indifferent. "Oh, Charlotte, ain't it dreadful?" her mother whispered, when Cephas went into the pantry again. "I don't care if he makes pies out of burrs," returned Charlotte, audibly, but her voice was quite even. "I don't b'lieve but what sorrel would do some better than burrs," said her mother, "but he can't make pies without short'nin' nohow."
He trot up ter de do' en stan' dar pawin' de ground en chompin' de bit same like sho 'nuff hoss, en Brer Rabbit he mount, he did, en dey amble off. Brer Fox can't see behime wid de bline bridle on, but bimeby he feel Brer Rabbit raise one er his foots. "'W'at you doin' now, Brer Rabbit? sezee. "'Short'nin' de lef stir'p, Brer Fox, sezee. "Bimeby Brer Rabbit raise up de udder foot.
"I know you can make 'em without," said Cephas, and his black eyes looked like flint. Mrs. Barnard appealed to her daughter. "Charlotte," said she, "you tell your father that pies can't be made fit to eat without I put somethin' in 'em for short'nin'." "No, they can't, father," said Charlotte. "He wants me to make sorrel pies, Charlotte," Mrs.
"Two little niggers upstairs in bed, One turned ober to de oder an' said, 'How 'bout dat short'nin' bread, How 'bout dat short'nin' bread?" At Camp Supply, Flood received a letter from Lovell, requesting him to come on into Dodge ahead of the cattle.
Barnard went on, in an injured and appealing tone which she seldom used against Cephas. "He's been out in the field, an' picked all that sorrel," and she pointed to a pan heaped up with little green leaves on the table, "an' I tell him I dunno how that will work, but he wants me to make the pie-crust without a mite of short'nin', an' I can't do that nohow, can I?"
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