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Did yo' git shut of that up-the-bank feller yo' married, Nelia?" "I'm alone," the girl laughed, her gaze turning to look at the others, who stood watching. "If yo' git a good man," Mrs. Caope philosophized, "hang on to him. Don't let him git away. But if yo' git somebody that's shif'less an' no 'count, chuck him ovehbo'd. That's what I b'lieve in. Well, I declare!
Peters stood for a moment, looking at her and then inquired: "Did yo' father tell you suthin' I said to him?" Slowly rocking she looked up at him. "He always has enough talk of his own without repeatin' what other folks say." "But what I told him was about you." "Well, if what you said wasn't good you wouldn't be here to tell about it, so it don't concern me." He attempted to smile, but failed.
Bounderby, with his thumbs in the arms of his coat, and jerking his head and shutting his eyes in confidence with the opposite wall: 'how it happens. 'I'd leefer not coom to 't, sir; but sin you put th' question an' not want'n t' be ill-manner'n I'll answer. I ha passed a promess. 'Not to me, you know, said Bounderby. 'O no, sir. Not to yo.
The mountaineer's words lashed out like a physical blow, and the crimson flamed into the other's cheeks and those of Smiles as well. "Hit air er lie," he repeated with a rasping voice, as he dashed the blood and dirt from his lips. "We war fightin' ter kill, an' I reckon yo' kin guess what hit war erbout," he added, flinging the last words up at the girl.
"Well, 'long 'bout five o'clock Monday evenin' I war readin' ther paper, when I hearn a knock at ther door, and same time I hearn Bolus thet's the big collie, yo' remember kinder whinin' as though he war glad, and bangin the door with his tail.
Where win yo ha't put, Betty? 'Eh, I'm fain thae's brought it, said Betty. 'It's for th' chapel; an' it'll be wanted for Sunday. Sitho, set it deawn i' this front reawm here; an' mind what thae'rt doin' with it. So Robin, an' Barfoot Sam, an' Little Wamble, 'at looks after th' horses at 'Th' Rompin' Kitlin, geet it eawt o'th cart.
Then Kid Wolf led him over it and down again into a gully a little distance to the west of it. Ahead of them now was safety, if they could make it. The Texan mounted and swung up Robbins behind the saddle. "Too bad we had to leave that twenty thousand, Kid," said Robbins. The Kid's white teeth flashed in a smile. "Really, Dave," he drawled, "do yo' think I'd let Garvey get away with that?
"All de vittles what we got we e't 'fo' we started." "An' you speck ter retch dar safe an soun'? Whar's yo' ticket?" "Ain't got none. De man say ez how dey'd pass us thoo. I gin a man a fi'-dollar bill 'fo' I lef' Jonesboro, an' he sed dat settled it."
"Shut up, boy," I cried, "and get off and see what ails the man. He can't hurt you." But Sam sat in his saddle clutching at his horse's neck, his face spotted with terror as I had seen it once before. "What is it, Sam?" I asked impatiently. "Good Gawd, Mas' Tom," he cried, his teeth chattering together and cutting off his words queerly, "don' yo' see who 'tis? Don' yo' know him?" "Know him?
'Her eyes were all alive wi' light, and her hair was thick on the pillow round her, but her cheeks were thin thin to frighten a man that's strong. "Nay, father, yo mayn't say th' devil's colours. Them ribbons is pretty." An' she held out her hands for th' hat, an' she put all straight as a woman will wi' ribbons. "Nay, but what they're pretty," she says.
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