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Updated: June 13, 2025
Bimeby we got to Nashville. Abe Lincoln wuz hungry, & I stopped 2 git him something to eat. My gracious, the lot ov ham & aigs at 50 cents a plate & sandwiches at 25 cents a piece that contraband kin eat. He never seemed 2 git full. He looked longingly at the pies, but I let him look. I wuzzent runnin no Astor House in connexion with the Freedmen's buro.
Now he decided to make a selection himself. "Vely well. Bleef steak and hlam'neggs." "Fried potatoes done brown, John." "Flied plotatoes. Tea or cloffee?" "Coffee," decided Dave for both of them. "Warm mine." "And custard pie," added Bob. "Made from this year's crop." "Aigs sunny side up," directed his friend. "Fry mine one on one side and one on the other," Hart continued facetiously.
"Ah bet it's hell out there," said Chrisfield. "I feel better," said Judkins. "Let's go get some more cognac." "Ah'm hungry," said Chrisfield. "Let's go an' get that ole woman to cook us some aigs." "Too damn late," growled Judkins. "How the hell late is it?" "Dunno, I sold my watch." They were walking at random through the orchard.
Quart aigs 'n' all the shickens in the worl' layin' reg'lar!" "Have you got any left?" "No honest. Used 'em all up for m' mince-meat!" Ford knew he was lying. His eyes searched the untidy tables and the corners filled with bags and boxes.
"Porkypines!" propounded Mrs. Gammit, with a sudden smile of triumph. Joe Barron neither spoke nor smiled. But in his silence there was something that made Mrs. Gammit uneasy. "Why not porkypines?" she demanded, her face once more growing severe. "It might be porkypines as took them aigs o' yourn, Mrs. Gammit, an' it might be bumbly-bees!" responded Barron. "But 'tain't likely!" Mrs.
"An' anyways, a porkypine don't eat aigs. He hain't got the right kind o' teeth fer them kind o' vittles. He's got to have something he kin gnaw on, somethin' substantial an' solid the which he prefers a young branch o' good tough spruce, though it do make his meat kinder strong. No, Mrs. Gammit, it ain't no porkypine what's stealin' yer aigs, take my word fer it.
"I'll I'll bring you an extra dozen right soon, Mister Merrivale." "I ain't a-goin' ter flex my soul 'bout that, Nella-Rose. Aigs is aigs, but human nater is human nater; an' keepin' a store widens yo' stretch o' vision. Now, watch out, lil' girl, an' don't take too much fo' granted. When a gun goes off yo' hear it; but when skunks trail, yo' don't get no sign, 'less it's a smell!"
"Now run along, Frank, and don't try to teach your grandad to suck aigs. I was doctoring hosses before you come to this country at all, and I'm going to doctor this one some more and then go to bed." Shortly thereafter the good horse Elisha entertained a visitor who brought no lantern with him, but operated in the dark, swiftly and silently.
I asked, rather puzzled. "Why, to get the aigs and eat 'em!" she responded with a bright smile and flashing teeth. "Do you eat the eggs of wild birds?" "Yes indeed! It's fine to get a pattridge nest! From them we nearly always git a whole dozen of aigs at once, back where I live, in Virginia."
We boys git dem eggs and git on out in our play thicket and roast em and eat em and you know grandma found out where we roast dem aigs at, and whooe if she didn' whup us. He! He!
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