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"Well, I dunno's I can, all of a piece, so to speak; but when it gits along towards eight o'clock, an' the room's all simmerin', an' the moon lays out on the snow, it does seem as if we made a pretty poor spec' out o' life. We don't seem to have no color in it. Why, don't you remember 'Solomon in all his glory'? I guess 't wouldn't ha' been put in jest that way if there wa'n't somethin' in it.
I 'spec' dat po' nigger is done had de bre'f skeered outen her already." His eye was caught by the figures of Braceway and Mr. Fulton leaving No. 5. They turned and started up the walk toward No. 9. "Mr. Fulton," Braceway explained, after the introduction to Bristow, "wants to tell you something about his about Mrs. Withers. It brings in further complications hard ones for us." Mr.
'Spec he whah he oughtn't ter be." Mr. Colfax spied the stooping figure of Eliphalet. "Do you work here?" he demanded. "I callate." "What?" "I callate to," responded Mr. Hopper again, without rising. "Please find Mr. Hood," directed Mr. Colfax, with a wave of his cane, "and say that Miss Carvel is here "
"When I hire a man I expect him to pay his own expenses and send me the bill." "Quite so," agreed the other blandly. "But, you see, you aren't hiring me. I'm doing this on spec. And I don't propose to invest anything in a dubious proposition, myself. It isn't too late to call it off, you know." "No, I do' wanta do that," said the other with contorted face.
"There was one pint which my Grandmother observed, and which, I muss say, I thought lickwise: 'Ho, Jeames, says she, 'hall those fine ladies in sattns and velvets is very well, but there's not one of em can hold a candle to Mary Hann." "Railway Spec is going on phamusly. You should see how polite they har at my bankers now! Sir Paul Pump Aldgate, & Company.
Uncle Wellington did not know the street and number, and the hackman had to explain to him the mystery of numbered houses, to which he was a total stranger. "Where is he from?" asked the hackman, "and what is his business?" "He is f'm Norf Ca'lina," replied uncle Wellington, "an' makes his livin' w'itewashin'." "I reckon I knows de man," said the hackman. "I 'spec' he 's changed his name.
"I was rais' a Catholic, but when I come here twant no church an' I joined de Baptis' an' was baptised. Now de white folks lemme go to dey church. Dey aint no cullud church near 'nough so's I can go. I spec' its all right. I figgers dat God is ever'where. "My Mistis knowed how to read an' write. I don' know 'bout de Marster. He could keep sto' anyway. Us all spoke French in dem days.
I done tol' him you might be back to-day an' den ag'in you mightn't 'pended on de way de ducks was flyin'. Spec' he'll be roun' ag'in purty soon seemed ter hab sumpin' on his min'. I'll tu'n de knob, sah. Yere git down, you imp o' darkness, you Floe! you Dandy! Drat dem dogs!
Bitter is half-pay! It is bitter to muse on vanished youth; it is bitter to lose an election or a suit. Bitter are rage suppressed, vengeance unwreaked, and prize-money kept back. Bitter are a failing crop, a glutted market, and a shattering spec. Bitter are rents in arrear and tithes in kind. Bitter are salaries reduced and perquisites destroyed.
"Now, don't go for to take 'em off, Mr. Jake," said she. "I spec' you're gwine down to Pardon's, and so you jist keep 'em on to show 'em all how nice you KIN look." The same thought had already entered Jacob's mind. Poor fellow! It was the highest form of pleasure of which he had ever allowed himself to conceive.
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