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Updated: June 8, 2025
An' den while I was a-lookin' roun' fur a tree big enough to git behind, wrapper an' all, out comes Mah'sr George Mason from a bush, an' he hollers, 'Hello, Uncle Braddock, you come a-here. An' then he says, 'You ain't much, Uncle Braddock, but I guess you'll do! An' I says, 'Don't believe I'll do, Mah'sr George, fur you know I can't march, an' I nebber could shoot none, an' I got de rheumertiz in both me legs and me back, and no jint-water in me knees you can't make no soldier out er me, Mah'sr George. And then he laughed, an' says, 'You would make a pretty soldier, dat's true, Uncle Braddock.
"Look a-here, friend," said the latter, "do you think you're one of them never-sag gates, or a mountain, or what? You want to see a doctor about them delusions. They'll sure get you into trouble some day." "That'll be all right about me," the big guardian of the gate returned. "Just read that notice. This is private property." They read it.
Look a-here, Mis' McGuire," flared Susan, turning with fierce suddenness, "wouldn't YOU be worse if you wasn't allowed to do as much as lift your own hand to your own head?" "Why, Susan, what do you mean? What are you talkin' about?" "I'm talkin' about Keith Burton an' Mis' Nettie Colebrook. I've GOT to talk about 'em to somebody. I'm that full I shall sunburst if I don't.
With the aid of his crutches the man descended the steps. Behind him came the boy with the chair. At the foot the boy flung wide the door and escorted his guest through a dark, evil-smelling hallway, into a kitchen beyond. "Ma! Kitty! look a-here!" he shouted, leaving the chair, and springing into the room. "I 've bringed home comp'ny ter dinner. Dis is Mike.
If I do that, I shan't get into trouble by speaking too freely in the hearing of a Yankee spy." "But look a-here, Mister Marcy," protested Kelsey. "If you came to pry into our private affairs, you might as well jump on your mule and go home, for you'll not get a word from me.
"Can't you?" drawled the New England voice. "You law-abiding, get-a-summons, act-of parliament lot of sons of Belial can't you? Now, look a-here, these Colt pistols I am selling " He took the pearler aside and could be heard talking earnestly in the corner. "See you load and see?" There were rapid clicks. "Simple, isn't it?
"If it's all the same, gentlemen, I'd ruther change pasture. Guess I'll do it now." "'Can't always have your 'druthers. 'Guess you won't," said Rod. "But look a-here. All of you ain't so blame unfriendly to a stranger. S'pose we count noses." "What in Vermont fer?" said Rod, putting up his eyebrows.
"Well, I I look a-here, Mister Marcy, mebbe this is something else you don't believe. Them men whose names I jest give you, say that you an' your maw an' all the rest of the Gray family is Union. What do ye say to that?" "I say that they had better attend to their own business and let me attend to mine," answered Marcy. "Are Colonel Shelby and the rest of them for the Union?"
Hawkins," insisted Miss Fletcher, "there are better things than those for us to learn. Haven't you ever felt the need of an education yourself?" Pop looked at her suspiciously: "Look a-here, young woman. I'm nigh on to seventy. I never hed a doctor but onct in my life, an' then he chopped my arm off when it might hev got well whar it wuz. I kin plow, an' fell trees, an' haul wood.
Oh, I know I'm ongrateful, an' all that," acknowledged Samuel testily, "but I can't help it. I've been jest ready to bile over ever since last Christmas, an' now I have biled over. Look a-here, Lyddy Ann, we ain't so awful old. You're seventy-three an' I'm seventy-six, an' we're pert as sparrers, both of us. Don't we live here by ourselves, an' do most all the work inside an' outside the house?"
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