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"She's your fiance, I suppose," Tom remarked, winking at his aunt. "I don't know whut you mean, but she ain't my nuthin' it don't seem like." "I mean you are engaged to her." "Don't look much like it. Told her ef she'd meet me over here we mout be. Reckon her not comin' is a hint that she ain't agreeable to the p'int. How air you an' Lou a gittin' along?"
It was here, in some poor, miserable rooms, that Jeff lived with his brothers and sisters. "Whut de mattah, Jeff?" asked his mother, a large, fat, colored washerwoman. "Am de p'licemans after yo' a'gin?" Jeff had run so hard that he was out of breath, and could not speak for a few moments.
"Do you consider her incorrigible?" "Sir?" "Do you think her stepmother is able to control her?" Uncle Jed looked a trifle embarrassed. "Well, Mrs. Snawdor ain't whut you might say regular in her method. Sometimes she's kinder rough on Nance, and then again she's a heap sight too easy." "That's a God's truth!" Mrs. Snawdor agreed fervently from the rear.
"Whut yo' want to say unto me?" inquire li'l black Mose. "Ah want to tell yo'," say de ghost, "dat yo' ain't need yever be skeered of ghosts, 'ca'se dey ain't no ghosts." An' whin he say dat de ghost jes vanish away like de smoke in July. He ain't even linger round dat locality like de smoke in Yoctober. He jes dissipate outen de air, an' he gone intirely.
"Well, Jeff," said the judge, "I doubt either the legality or the propriety of such a step, ef you get what I mean. From whut you tell me I don't see where he's really broken any laws. He's got a right to come here and organize his societies and lodges and things so long as he don't actually come out in the open and preach violence.
Do you re-collect how two uv our men afteh they'd got safe oveh the river, instid o' mekin' fur the bresh, stopped thar on the bank in full range o' the Injuns on t'otheh side, an' rallied the men an' made 'em halt an' fire back at the whoopin' red demons, so's we pore wretches whut wuz still swimmin' fur life could hev some chance to escape? Dudley? Do you know any one of that name?"
They were fairly between the lines now and bullets were flying about them. Tad could hear their whut! whut! as they sped past him. He had lost the race. But there still remained one more resource. His rope was in its place. Tad slipped it from the saddle horn and made a quick reach for the rancher. He groaned when he saw that he had missed his aim.
Laughlin could never figure out quite how it was that Cowperwood always seemed to know and was ready to act quite as quickly in local matters as he was himself. He understood his wisdom concerning Eastern shares and things dealt in on the Eastern exchange, but these Chicago matters? "Whut makes you think that?" he asked Cowperwood, one day, quite curiously.
It seems, from whut they write, that your uncle, by name Daniel O'Day, died not very long ago without issue that is to say, without leavin' any children of his own, and without makin' any will. "It appears he had eight thousand pounds saved up. Ever since he died those lawyers and some other folks over there in Ireland have been tryin' to find out who that money should go to.
Why didn't she come out and tell us when we went to her and I told her she must get off the place? Why didn't you tell me, Judge, before now why didn't you give me a hint before now?" "Honey, I couldn't. I was under a solemn promise not to tell a promise that I've jest now broken. On the whole I think I'm glad I did break it. . . . Lemme see ef I kin remember in her own words whut she said to us?
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