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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Why, you see," said Jed, "Phin Babbitt and the rest sendin' you over here to find a crank was their little joke. They're enjoyin' it now. The one thing needed to make 'em happy for life is to see you come out of here empty-handed and so b'ilin' mad that you froth over.
The farmers they allowed that'd swamp 'em worse'n they was already swamped ez it would so they up and quit. Blackwell, he's a cuss, with a snoot like a hawg. He don't want no neighbors." I had been observing the old man's face as he talked. It was villainous only in its featurings. "Which are you; a prospector or a miner?" I asked. "A little b'ilin' o' both, I reckon," was his rejoinder.
Wade," he resumed, "we was about sick of putty-heads and sneaks that didn't know enough or didn't dare to make us stand round and bone in. You walked in, b'ilin' over with grit. You took hold as if you belonged here. You made things jump like a two-headed tarrier. All we wanted was a live man, to say, 'Here, boys, all together now! You've got your stint, and I've got mine.
"It's not long prior to these yere stampedes into a higher moonicipal life, however, when quite a b'ilin' of us is in the Red Light discussin' some sech future. Our rival, Red Dog, is allowin' it's goin' to have a mayor or somethin', an' we sorter feels like our hands is forced.
Biddy waddled away to the 'barrun' and soon reappeared with three eggs. "B'iled or fried?" "Boiled," said Yan, aiming to keep to the safe side. Biddy looked around for a pot. "Shure, that's b'ilin' now," said Granny, pointing to the great mass of her undergarments seething in the boiler, and accordingly the eggs were dropped in there. Yan fervently prayed that they might not break.
"When she keeps a-throwin' skillet lids," came Ransie's antiphony, "and slings b'ilin' water on the best coon-dog in the Cumberlands, and sets herself agin' cookin' a man's victuals, and keeps him awake o' nights accusin' him of a sight of doin's!" "When he's al'ays a-fightin' the revenues, and gits a hard name in the mount'ins fur a mean man, who's gwine to be able fur to sleep o' nights?"
Why, what is you talkin' 'bout? Two hund'd dollahs. Sakes alive, it's 'mos' enough to buy a tol'able good secondhand nigger wid. En you ain't lyin', honey? You wouldn't lie to you' old Mammy?" "It's God's own truth, jes as I tell you two hund'd dollahs I wisht I may never stir outen my tracks if it ain't so. En, oh, my lan', ole Marse was jes a-hoppin'! He was b'ilin' mad, I tell you!
After dinner he made the whole regiment of us follow him all over the house, while he lectured like a guide on the Palatine. He gave dimensions and costs, and the whole b'ilin' of 'em listened as if they thought he intended to make them a present of the house. What he was proudest of was the plumbing and that Bay of Naples panorama in the hall.
Sighingly the sergeant lowered his glass: "Lordy, it's the whole kit and b'ilin'! Wag, John. When they swing up round this end of the trees I'll count 'em. Here they come! One, ... two, ... why, what small oh, see this big fellow! Look at the width of those yards! And look at all their hulls, painted the color of the river!
An officer who came out of the ambuscade at Fort Duquesne with thirty living men out of three companies and four shot holes in his coat must have an engagement with Destiny. Evidently his work was not finished. You have traveled about some. What is the feeling over there toward England?" "They're like a b'ilin' pot everywhere. England has got to step careful now."
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