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"I hope I's ready, but I hope to be spaihed a good many yeahs yit." "To do good, I suppose?" "Yes, suh; yes, suh. Fac' is, Mawse Gawge, I jes' hop up to ax you some'p'n." "Well, here I am." "I want to ax you I want to ax you er er I want " "Oh, speak out. I haven't time to be bothering here all day." "Well, you know, Mawse Gawge, some o' us ain' nigh ez ol' ez dey looks." "That's true.

"We's all hyeah, de faithful few, an' we's all ready fu' wo'k." The sisters beamed and nodded. "Well, we goin' to have some'p'n evah night, beginnin' wid Chris'mus night, straight on endurin' of de week, an' I want to separate you all into companies fu' to take chawge of each night. Now, I's a-goin' to have a powahful preachah f'om de Souf wid us, an' I want you all to show him what we kin do.

I heard from Bob Flick that José was still here and I see a duty before me." "She could not keep away from me," José rolled his eyes sentimentally. "You see beneath that rough old jacket of her husband's which she wears there beats a heart." "I got some'p'n else that can beat and that's a fist." She stretched out her arm and drew it back, gazing with pride at her great, swelling muscles.

The old man said no more until he had reached the parsonage, and then when he saw how the little fellow ate and how tenderly his son ministered to him, he murmured to himself, "Feed my lambs"; and then turning to his son, he said, "Robbie, dey's some'p'n in 'dis, dey's some'p'n in it, I tell you." That night there was a boy's class in the lower room of Robert Dixon's little church.

"Dem people sees dat you got a little some'p'n, an' dey ain't gwine stop ontwell dey's bu'nt an' stoled evah blessed cent f'om you. Je'miah, don't you have nuffin' mo' to do wid 'em." "I got to, Cindy Ann." "Whut fu' you got to?" "How I gwine buil' a cabin an' a ba'n an' buy a mule less'n I deal wid 'em?" "Dah's Mas' Sam Brabant. He'd he'p you out." Jerry rose up, his eyes flashing fire.

Lize, who was news-gatherer and carrier extraordinary, bore the tidings to her owners. She burst into the big house with the cry of "Whut I tell you! Whut I tell you!" "Well, what now," exclaimed both Mr. and Mrs. Marston. "Didn' I tell you ol' Simon was up to some'p'n?" "Out with it," exclaimed her master, "out with it, I knew he was up to something, too." "George, try to remember who you are."