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"Well, all I got to say is thishere; if he's a-goin' to come to see you ev'y day then I ain't never comin' no mo'. He's been acarryin' on his foolishness 'bout 's long as I can stand it. You got to chose 'tween us right this minute; he come down here mos' ev'y day, he's tuck you drivin' more'n fifty hundred times, an' he's give you all the candy you can stuff."
Mista Sammerses' spectickles jes' them rims on his spectickles alone I bet they cos' mo'n all whut thishere young li'l Mista Dills got on him from his toes up an' his skin out. I bet Mista Plummers th'ow mo' money aroun' dess fer gittin' his pants press' than whut Mista Dills afford to spen' to buy his'n in the firs' place! He lose his struggle, 'cause you' Aunt Julia, she out fer the big class.
"Don't smell to me exackly like no pusserves," she said. "Nor yit like no pickles. Don't smell to me " She hesitated, sniffed the jar again, and then inquired in a voice quickly grown anxious: "Whut is all thishere in thishere jug? Seem like to me " But here she interrupted herself to utter a muffled exclamation, not coherent.
How could he " "He beat hisse'f! He dess out-talk hisse'f! No, ma'am; I done hear him many an' many an' many's the time, but las' night he beat hisse'f." "What about?" "Nothin' in the wide worl' but dess thishere young li'l Noble Dills whut we talkin' about this livin' minute." "What started him?" "Whut start him?" Mrs. Silver echoed with sudden loudness. "My goo'niss!
She treat 'em all mighty nice, 'cause the mo' come shovin' an' pushin' each other aroun', class or no class, why, the mo' harder that big class got to work to git her an' the mo' she got after her the mo' keeps a-comin'. But thishere young li'l Mista Dills, I kine o' got strong notion he liable not come no mo' 'tall!"
"What are you doing?" "Suh?" Debouching sidewise she came into fuller view, but retired a few steps. "Whut I doin' whur, Mista Atwater?" "How'd that dog get on my front steps?" Her face became noncommittal entirely. "Thishere dog? He just settin' there, suh." "How'd he get in the yard?" "Mus' somebody up an' brung him in." "Who did it?" "You mean: Who up an' brung him in, suh?"
Johnson inquired. "Who? Miss Julia? She settin' out on the front po'che talkin' to Mista Sammerses." "My name! How she goin' fix it with him, after all thishere dishcumaraddle?" "Who? Miss Julia? Leave her alone, honey! She take an' begin talk so fas' an' talk so sweet, no young man ain't goin' to ricklect he ever give her no cats, not till he's gone an' halfway home!
Verman complied, and again pointing to his brother's legs, requested to be enlightened. "Sin' I tole you once they down bottom 'at cistern," Herman shouted, much exasperated. "You wan' know how come so, you ast Sam Williams. He say thishere cat tuck an' th'owed 'em down there!" Sam, who was busy rocking the cage, remained cheerfully absorbed in that occupation.
A hissing issued from the boiler, and Genesis caught the words, huskily whispered: "Walk faster! You got to walk faster." The tub between them tugged forward with a pathos of appeal wasted upon the easy-going Genesis. "I got plenty time cut 'at grass befo' you' pa gits home," he said, reassuringly. "Thishere rope what I got my extry tub slung to is 'mos' wo' plum thew my hide."
You could of heard him lots farther than where I was." "Lan' o' misery!" Kitty Silver cried. "If you done hear him whur you was, thishere li'l Dills mus' a-hear him mighty plain?" "He did. How could he help it?
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