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A woman came one evening with the following queries: "Missus, whar all dese clo'es come from? Does gov'ment send 'em to us?" On listening to my explanation, "An' don't gov'ment pay you for bringin' 'em to us?"

I'll des 'bout foller 'im up, en ef I ketch 'im he'll sholy be my meat. "Dat de way Brer Wolf talk. He followed 'long atter de track, he did, en he look at it close, but he ain't see no print er no claw. Bimeby de track tuck 'n tu'n out de road en go up a dreen whar de rain done wash out. De track wuz plain dar in de wet san', but Brer Wolf ain't see no sign er no claws.

He comes to me once, thar's more than three years ago, and instead of saying, 'Cunnel, thar's twenty Injuns lying on the road at the lower ford of Salt, whar you may nab them, says he, says he, 'Friend Thomas, thee must keep the people from going nigh the ford, for thar's Injuns thar that will hurt them; and then he takes himself off; whilst I rides down thar with twenty-five men and exterminates them, killing six, and driving the others the Lord knows whar.

"Hain't ye got no guess whar he be gone?" asked Birt, dismayed by this strange new complication. "Waal, I hev been studyin' it out ez Nate mought hev rid ter Parch Corn, whar his great-uncle, Joshua Peters, lives him that merried my aunt, Melissy Baker, ez war a widder then, though born a Scruggs.

I'll jist skirmish round in and out o' them drifts on these four wheels whar ye can't drag one o' them flat-bottomed dry-goods boxes through a drift." Bill had a California whip's contempt for a sledge. But he was warmly seconded by Thatcher, who had the next best thing to experience, the instinct that taught him to read character, and take advantage of another man's experience.

Another sigh, with the speech that followed, explained the singularity of his behaviour, "Thar!" said he, pointing to the entrance of the forest-path "thar's the place whar I last looked on Marian!" For half a mile beyond the glade, the trace continued wide enough to admit of our riding abreast; but, notwithstanding this advantage, no word passed between us.

I picked up the five scalps and started to dinner, and as I passed by the kitchen I threw them under the negro cook's feet and told him to cook them for dinner for my friend and me referring to Jim Beckwith. When he saw the scalps he exclaimed: "Laws a massa, boss! whar you git dem skelps? Marse Meyers said dey wasn't an Injun in fifty miles o' hyar."

As they rose from the table there were brisk, light steps along the hall, and Will entered hurriedly, warm and dusty after the day's hunt. Catching sight of his grandfather, he started nervously, and the boyish animation he had brought in from the fields faded quickly from his face, which took on a sly and dogged look. "Whar in the devil's name have you been, suh?" demanded Fletcher bluntly.

You sed-down heah an' keep still, an' ef she's upstairs maybe I kin git yer in dere a minute. Ef I can't, I kin put yo' bokay 'mongs' de res', whar she won't know nuthin' erbout it." A moment after she had gone there was a step in the hall, and old Mrs. Myrover came into the kitchen. "Dinah!" she said in a peevish tone. "Dinah!" Receiving no answer, Mrs.

He sot dar, en he sot dar, en he drunk his dram, en he think he gwineter freeze, but bimeby day come, en dar he wuz. He make a pull, en he feel like he comin' in two, en he fetch nudder jerk, en lo en beholes, whar wuz his tail?" There was a long pause. "Did it come off, Uncle Remus?" asked the little boy, presently. "She did dat!" replied the old man with unction.