United States or Germany ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
He asked her if she had been happy that day because she did not think, and she answered that she had been happy because she had thought. Suddenly someone ran out of the woods in front of the steers. The wagon stopped and Jasper shouted: "Whut's the matter here?" A voice replied: "Wy, sah, atter buryin' de dog I tuck a sho't cut ter head you off.
"Bloodroot," said Hale, and he scratched the stem and forth issued scarlet drops. "The Indians used to put it on their faces and tomahawks" she knew that word and nodded "and I used to make red ink of it when I was a little boy." "No!" said June. With the next look she found a tiny bunch of fuzzy hepaticas. "Liver-leaf." "Whut's liver?"
It's frum Ireland frum the town of Kilmare, where your people came frum. It was sent to me by a firm of barristers in that town lawyers we'd call 'em. In this letter they ask me to find you and to tell you whut's happened.
So whut's the job? This yere Kirby matter?" He nodded sullenly, a bit regretful that he had gone so far I imagined, and with another cautious glance about the room. "I'll tell yer all ye need ter know," he began. "'Tain't such a long story. This yere Joe Kirby he's a frien' o' mine; I've know'd him a long time, an' he's in a hell of a fix.
Don't let him get away." "I ain't likely to. He's a lyin' right whar yer dropped him. Holy Smoke! it sounded ter me like ye hit him with a pole-axe. I got his gun, an' thet's whut's makin' this skunk hold so blame still oh, yes, I will, Jack Rale; I'm just a achin' fer ter let ye hav' it." "And the other fellow? He hit me." "My ol' frien', Gaskins; thet's him, all right."
"I boss the boys," he said, "but I reckon Cynthy Ann knows whut's best fur the gals; though, ez fur ez I'm consarned, I'd like Cissy to be ez eddicated ez any uv them high-flyers 'roun' Lexin'ton." Susan was ambitious and loved study, and, although she did not openly rebel against her mother's ruling, went about her household tasks in a dejected way which greatly tried bustling Mrs. Rogers.
Now, f'rinstance, you take this here present instance: A woman turns aginst the woman she thinks is her own mother. Then she finds out the other woman ain't her own mother a-tall, and she swings right back round agin and well, it's got me stumped. Now ef in her place it had 'a' been a man. But a woman oh, shuckin's, whut's the use?"
"It's whut's left o' me," he answered solemnly, sitting up and feeling his head as if expecting to find it gone. "Thet wus 'bout ther worst ride ever I took." "I should think it likely," I exclaimed, my anger rising again as I thought of it. "What, in Heaven's name, do you mean by riding down on me like that?"
"Because, nigger, I means to drap you right on de Main Street o' Niggertown, 'fo' all dem niggers whut's been a-raggin' me 'bout you an' Cissie. I's gwine show dem fool niggers I don' take no fumi-diddles off'n nobody." "Tump," gasped Jim Pink, in a husky voice, "you oughtn't shoot Peter; he mammy jes daid." "'En she won' worry none. Turn roun', Peter, an' when I says, 'March, you march."
I seemed to grasp the entire truth the wily, cowardly scheme of treachery he was endeavoring to perpetrate. My blood boiled in my veins, and yet I felt cold as ice, as I swung about, and faced the fellow, my rifle flung forward. "Kirby, stand up! Drop that rifle take it, Eloise. Now raise your hands. Tim." "Whut's up?" "Is there anything serious going on outside?"
Word Of The Day