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"No yer don't," said Nimbus; "yer's been a scoldin' an' abusin' me all dis yer time, an' now I'se gwine ter hab my way fer a little while." He went to the door and called: "Gena! Oh, Gena!" and as his wife did not answer, he said to one of his children, "Oh, Axylone, jes run inter de kitchen, son, an' tell yer ma ter put on anudder plate, fer Bre'er 'Liab's comin' ober ter take a bite wid us."
By this fire the woman's face was also revealed, and she was so much interested in the fight that she turned all parts of her countenance into the firelight, slapping her hands together, laughing like a man, dropping her oaths at the right places, and crying: "I bet my money on little Owen Daw! Cy James ain't no good, by God! Yer's whiskey a-plenty for Owen Daw if he gouges him.
I'se done been young, en I'se now ole, en I ain' never seed de devil stick his mouf in anybody's bizness 'fo' he's axed." She bent over and raked the ashes from her cake with a lightwood splinter. "Dis yer's gwine tase moughty flat-footed," she grumbled as she did so. "O Aunt Ailsey," wailed Betty in despair. The tears shone in her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks.
"It seems that gal 's off, with her young un." "Mr. Haley, Mrs. Shelby is present," said Mr. Shelby. "I beg pardon, ma'am," said Haley, bowing slightly, with a still lowering brow; "but still I say, as I said before, this yer's a sing'lar report. Is it true, sir?" "Sir," said Mr. Shelby, "if you wish to communicate with me, you must observe something of the decorum of a gentleman. Andy, take Mr.
"Are you crazy, father?" demanded Jenny suddenly sitting up with a portentous switch of her yellow mane. Mr. McClosky rubbed one side of his beard, which already had the appearance of having been quite worn away by that process, and faintly dodged the question. "Jinny," he said, tenderly stroking the bedclothes as he spoke, "this yer's what's the matter.
His aunt met him angrily on the porch. "Thar ye are at last, and yer's a stranger waitin to see you. He's been axin all sorts o' questions, about the house and the business, and kinder snoopin' round permiskiss. I don't like his looks, Jeff, but thet's no reason why ye should be gallivantin' round in business hours."
"Yes," he said awkwardly, with a slight relaxation of his aggressive attitude; "yes, in course it's more bang-up style, but it don't pay Rosey it don't pay. Yer's the Pontiac that oughter be bringin' in, ez rents go, at least three hundred a month, don't make her taxes. I bin thinkin' seriously of sellin' her."
His expectation was quickly realized: a lazily querulous, feminine outcry, with the words, "Yer's that darned hound agin!" came from an adjacent room, and his exposed and abashed companion swiftly retreated past him into the road again. Mr.
The Honorable Jeems Bee, of Texas, sitting in his committee-room half an hour before the convening of Congress, waiting for his negro familiar to compound a julep, was suddenly confronted by a small boy on crutches. "A letter!" exclaimed Mr. Bee, "with the frank of Reybold on it that Yankeest of Pennsylvania Whigs! Yer's familiarity! Wants me to appoint one U U U, what?"
Then drawing himself up to his full height and casting a scrutinising glance round the room, he exclaimed "Now, mates, how many of yer's ready to go out?" "Why, all of us in course, dad," replied Jack Willis. "'Twas mostly in expectation of bein' wanted that we comed down here to-night. And we've all got our oilskins, so you've only got to pick your crew and let's be off."
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