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"Don't they?" roared Evans, who was a red-headed Welshman. "You talk as if I was ditched by a hog every fool-day o' the week. I ain't friends with all the cussed half-fed shotes in the State o' New York. No, indeed! Yes, this is him an' look what he's done!" It was not a bad night's work for one stray piglet.
He qualified his refusal to buy with a cordial invitation to go out and see his shotes, in which he took infinite pride. But Uncle Ripley said: "I guess I'll haf t' be goin'; I want 'o git up to Jennings' before dinner." He couldn't help feeling a little depressed when he found Jennings away. The next house along the pleasant lane was inhabited by a "new-comer."
Ordinarily he would have been delighted with the idea of walking down the road with the schoolma'am, but there was something in her look which seemed to tell him that she knew all about his trouble, and, besides, he was not in good humor. "Yes, in a minnit soon's I fix up this hole. Them shotes, I b'lieve, would go through a keyhole, if they could once get their snoots in."
"They're a mizzable pack of shotes, an' I b'leeve they'd all leave the camp fur a few ounces." "Ye es," drawled the judge, dubiously; "but thar's the Widder Ginneys she'd pan out a pretty good schoolroom-full with her eight young uns, an' there ain't ounces enough in the diggin's to make her leave while Tom Ginneys's coffin's roostin' under the rocks."
"That shows where he lives; a man might as well live in a well as up in Molasses Gap," said one of the younger men, pointing up to the Coolly. "Why, Ike Harkey is kicking about the six shotes the Deacon put off on him." "No, it wasn't the shotes, it was a farrer cow," put in Clint Stone. "Well, I heard it was a shote." "So did I," said another.
"Well, well, well, de listed sow, an' de big white hogue, an' seben head o' shotes done tore down de fence, an' took deyselves 'cross de riber for to steal Mars Jones's corn; I 'clare 't is a disgrace. I reckon Mars Jones gwine cuss a plenty when he fine it out. It certinly is a pity for master's creturs to do sich a low-life trick as dat.
Miss Diddie dar, she burhavt like er little lady, jes kinter foolin' wid her knife an' fork, an' nuber eatin' nuffin' hardly; an' dar you wuz jes ir pilin' in shotes an' lams an' squ'ls, an' roas'n yurs, an' pickles an' puddin's an' cakes an' watermillions, tell I wuz dat shame fur ter call yer marster's darter!"
"Dem cert'ney make mighty fine shotes by spring," he announced to everybody that came along, "an' by killin'-time dey grow as big as dat barn. I gwine to feed 'em all day an' see how fat dey gits." "You're elected, Lazarus," I said. "It's your job. You look after Hans and Gretel and we'll look after you." "Yo' des watch 'em grow," said Lazarus. For a while we did.
"Now, these things can't be laid out fast as I call 'em off, but we'll do the best we can." "Let's try the stawk first," said Jim. The women stood around with shawls pinned over their heads while the division of the stock went forward. The young men came often within chaffing distance of the girls. There were nine shotes nearly of a size, and the Deacon said, "I'll give Serry the odd shote."
It pyears like I can't nuber larn you no manners, nohow." "Let de chile erlone, Sis Rachel," interposed Uncle Bob; "she ain't no grown lady, an' I seed marster he'p'n uv her plate hisse'f; she nuber eat none too much, consid'n hit wuz de Fourf uv July." "Didn't I eat no shotes an' lambs, Uncle Bob?" asked Dumps, wiping her eyes. "I don't b'lieve yer did," said Uncle Bob.
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