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Updated: June 2, 2025
My father has aye said, and ye ken he kens, 'at yer mother was a by ordinar guid rider in her young days, and this is what I wud hae ye du: gang straucht awa, whaurever ye think best, and buy for her the best luikin, best tempered, handiest, and easiest gaein leddy's-horse ye can lay yer ban's upo'. Ye hae a gey fair beast o' yer ain, my father says, and ye maun jist ride wi' her whaurever she gangs.
He los' track un er, en' ez he wuz a-startin' back out'n de swamp, a great big black ha'nt 'bout ten feet high, en' wid a fence-rail in its ban's jump out'n de bushes en' chase 'im cl'ar up in de co'n fiel'. Leas'ways he said it did; en' atter dat none er de niggers wouldn't go nigh de swamp, 'cep'n Cindy, who said it wuz all foolishness it wuz dis nigger's guilty conscience dat skeered 'im she hadn' seed no ha'nt en' wuz'n skeered er nuffin' she didn't see.
The Westerner glanced avidly about him, noting here a spoken name familiar in print, there a face recognized from far-spread photographic reproduction. "Some different from Ban's shack on the desert," he muttered. "Hello! Mr. Edmonds, who's the splendid-looking woman in brown with the yellow orchids, over there in the seat back of the palms?" Edmonds leaned forward to look.
In answer to Ban's hands, the deck of the control cabin was literally vibrating under the mounting speed of the generators in the power-room. The generators could not stand that terrific overload long: they would burn out. But Carse needed only a few seconds of it. The asteroid was a quarter of a mile away, seen through the infra-red. The dome loomed large. "All right!" whispered Hawk Carse.
"Yas, suh, I knows, suh, de mil' ones, dem wid de gol' ban's 'roun' 'em. Now you stay right hyuh, chile, till Peter come back." Peter came up the steps and disappeared in the doorway. The colonel opened a letter from Kirby, in which that energetic and versatile gentleman assured the colonel that he had evolved a great scheme, in which there were millions for those who would go into it.
For I know not how this battle might have ended hadst thou not slipped and fallen by chance as thou didst. My name is Sir Launcelot, surnamed of the Lake, and I am King Ban's son of Benwick." At this Sir Tristram cried out in a loud voice: "Sir Launcelot! Sir Launcelot! Is it thou against whom I have been doing battle!
I'se done tote 'er in dese arms when she wa'nt knee high ter Marse Tom's ole mule Jenny, en she ain't cut nairy er caper dat I ain't 'sperienced hit." "I don't care," retorted Eugenia. "Ain't I done see her plump right out whar sis Delphy wuz a-wallopin' her Jeetle nigger Jake, en holler out dat Jake ain' done lay ban's on her pa's watermillion 'case she done steal 'em herse'f?"
Des hol' on a minute, en I'll sprinkle you wid some er dis mixtry out'n dis yer bottle, so de patteroles can't see you, en you kin rub yo' feet wid some er dis yer grease out'n dis go'd, so you kin run fas', en rub some un it on yo' eyes so you kin see in de da'k; en den you mus' fin' dat noo nigger en gib 'im dis yer 'tater, er you gwine ter hab mo' trouble on yo' ban's 'n you eber had befo' in yo' life er eber will hab sence.
Stuyvy awfully fond of her. No harm meant. Good joke! Yes, I borr'wed Grand'F'ther Brooks's old gown'n ban's. Awf'lly good disguise! No harm meant on'y good joke girl awf'lly set on getting married. Stuyvy wanted t' please 'er awfully good, joke !"
'They maun be packit sae close, sae unco close i' their muckle pocks, like the feathers in a feather-bed! and syne, whan they lat them a' oot thegither, like haudin the bed i' their twa ban's by the boddom corners, they maun be smorin thick till they begin to spread! 'And wha think ye shaks oot the muckle pocks, Steenie? 'I dinna ken. I hae aften thoucht aboot it.
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