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Doubtless, he thought, the after-cabin and its doings was always being spied upon. "Will you take the service ter-morrer?" Lund asked Rainey when they were back in the cabin. "Bein' as yo're an eddicated chap?" "Why I don't know it. Is there a prayer-book aboard? I thought the skipper always presided." "I'm only deputy-skipper w'en it comes down to that," said Lund. "It ain't my ship.
"Oh! w'at for was me born?" she inquired, somewhat viciously, and, not being able apparently to answer this question, she proceeded to comment in a wildly sarcastic tone on the impropriety of her having been brought into existence at all. "Me should be dead. W'at's de use o' life w'en ums nothin' to live for? Alice gone! Darling Alice! Oh! dear. Me wish I wasn't never had been born; yes me do.
"We had sum bad en good luck signs but I'se fergettin' sum, but I'se members 'bout a black cat crossin' ovuh de path in frunt ob you dat you sho would hab bad luck. W'en dat happened ter me, I would spit on de ground, turn 'round en back ober de place de cat crossed en de "bad luck" wuz gon' fum me. Ef'n you found a ole hoss shoe dat had bin drapt'd by de hoss, hit meant good luck.
"No," said Chook; "but yer will w'en yer go 'ome an' find your 'ouse empty." "An' who moved me?" "Me an' Liz," said Chook. "The picnic wasn't till next week, an' Liz an' me thought we'd give yer a surprise." For the first time in her life Mrs Partridge was speechless. She saw that she had been tricked shamefully. They had ransacked her house, and laid bare all the secrets of her little luxuries.
The Duke of Wellington was coming up the steps, and his remarks trailed off into coughs and incoherent murmurs about the weather. Spectacle John knew better than to air his scientific theories before the Duke. She gave a contemptuous sniff and passed into the parlor. Silas Long chuckled. "John knows w'en to shut his mouth, don't ee, now, John?" he asked facetiously.
"I knowd haow 'twoud be w'en I see that air Edwards gal goin in. Ef I'd been on guard, she'd never a got in," said Abner, gloomily. "Who'd have supposed Hamlin was such a milksop as to mind a girl's bawling?" said Hubbard, scornfully.
"W'en Sandy had be'n gone long ernuff fer folks ter think he done got clean away, Tenie useter go down ter de woods at night en turn 'im back, en den dey 'd slip up ter de cabin en set by de fire en talk.
Didn't feel it, did you, George?" "Not so's I kin notice, suh. An' will dat show me an' de leetle shack w'en it's done fixed?" asked the fugitive wonderingly, eyeing the camera with respect. "Fine. And if you leave me your address, or that of your married daughter up in Chattanooga, I promise to send you a copy later on, George." "Oh! I'll do dat, marse, 'deed I will!
You didn't say anything then about bein' able to prove he wuz a bigamist." "Huh, jedge, I didn't have to prove it! Dat man wuz more'n jes' a plain bigamist. He sho' wuz a trigamist, an' ef the full truth wuz knowed I 'spects he wuz a quadrupler at the very least. He proved it hisself way he act' w'en the big 'splosion come."
This 'ere sc man is my landlord, sir, an' 'e wouldn't wait another day for 'is rent, sir, though I told 'im he was pretty sure o' 'avin it in a week or so, w'en I 'ad time to c'lect my outstandin' little bills "
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