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Now, tell me, why be you-all attemptin' to shift to "Willyum Henry?" "'Why, Marse, he says, after thinkin' hard a whole lot, 'I don't know, only my sister gets married ag'in last night, an' I can't think of nothin' else to do, so I sort o' allows I'll change my name." A moment later the exuberant and many-titled Tom appeared with the pocket-book.
From Réné Ducatel, in his antique-shop, whose folks 'tis mostly about?" "Yes. An antique himself, in spirit, eh? Yet modern enough to praise you highly." "H'mm! but only for the virtues of a slave." Chester smiled round from the shelves: "I noticed that! I'm afraid we white folks, the world over, are prone to do that with you-all." "Yes, when you speak of us at all."
Johnnie was near the end of another stanza of his sad song: "Oh, I'm goin' home Bull-whackin' for to spurn; I ain't got a nickel, And I don't give a dern. 'T is when I meet a pretty girl, You bet I will or try, I'll make her my little wife Root hog " He broke off embarrassed. "Did I wake you-all, ma'am, with my fool singin'? I'm right sorry if I did." "You didn't."
"Then he waves the Winchester, an' as he spurs 'round the corner of the hill it's the last that spellbound outfit ever sees of Silver Phil. "Nacherally now," remarked my old friend, as he refreshed himself with a mouthful of scotch, "you-all is waitin' an' tryin' to guess wherever does Dan Boggs get in on this yere deal. An' it won't take no time to post you; the same bein' a comfort.
"'Gents, says the Colonel, 'you-all is up ag'inst it. I don't care none if the cathedral's had a meetin', I declines to bow to your claims. As I states before, I obtains the money to conduct this yere journal by playin' poker. Now I can't play no ex post facto poker, nor get in on any rectroactive hands, which of itse'f displays your attitoode on this o'casion as onjust.
"Which o' you gents will begin dis pullin'?" he called. "Now, sahs, come on." Pink pushed his horse towards the edge of the crowd, but he was hailed with dissuasive cries. "Aw, hold on, Pink." "Don' be so bigoty." "Who you-all think ye are?" "Where's Bob Morgan?" "Yes, Bob's the feller!" "O-oh, Bob!" It was their tribute to the Doctor, this giving precedence to his son, and Bob so understood it.
Whoffo you wants all those cookies, girl? Doan you-all know you might git sick a-eatin' so much?" Hortense had to do some very fast thinking, now, for she knew she didn't dare scare poor old Aunt Esmerelda by telling her the cookies were magic. So she said, "Please, Aunt Esmerelda, don't be angry. Your cookies are just so good I could eat them all day without getting sick.
He shook as with a palsy, and he gave at the knees, slowly sinking down to fall suddenly across the sled and to know the smashing blow of darkness across his consciousness. "Exhaustion," said Daylight. "Take him off and put him to bed, some of you-all. He's sure a good Indian." "Daylight's right," was Doc Watson's verdict, a moment later. "The man's plumb tuckered out."
"'That's all right, says Jack; 'Pickles an' me has been keepin' cases on each other an hour; an' I'll post you-all private, if he goes to play hoss a little bit, him an' his oncle will be able to talk things over before night. "Which it's mighty soon when Pickles comes along where we be.
Instantly every revolver was whipped forth and a terrible fight ensued, every man taking part in the general melee. The girls, trembling with fear as shots and curses rang out profusely, clung to each other helplessly, but failed to note that the guns were aimed skyward. "Hey, boys what the deuce do you-all mean?" shouted a fine-looking man coming upon the scene unannounced.
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