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Updated: May 22, 2025
"I ask nothing from you or these gentlemen." "Them's the two she's after, paw: Jenks an' that greenie," Daniel bawled. "They know her. She's follered 'em. She aims to travel with 'em. Oh, gosh! She's shot her man in Benton. Gosh!" His voice trailed off. "Ain't she purty, though! She's dressed in britches." "Get you gone," Captain Adams thundered. "And these your paramours with you.
"You tell Bunt Rogers that he's a-gittin' too big fer his britches, an' first thing he knows, he'll whirl round an' see his naked nose. Tell him I said so." "Well, is they any Santy Claus?" "W'y cert. Ain't I a-tellin' you? Laws! ain't you never seen him yet?" "I seen that kind of a idol they got down in Plotner's winder." "Well, he looks jist like that, on'y he's alive."
Another curiosity, however, claimed Verman's attention. His eyes opened wide, and he pointed at Herman's legs. "Wha' ma' oo? Mammy hay oo hip ap hoe-woob." "Mammy tell ME git 'at stove-wood?" Herman interpreted resentfully. "How'm I go' git 'at stove-wood when my britches down bottom 'at cistern, I like you answer ME please? You shet 'at do' behime you!"
Unknown to the stranger the condition of his "britches" had probably given him his credit rating with Old Coonrod, for he held that patches upon the front of trousers, if the seat were whole, were decorations of honor, showing the man had torn them doing something, going forward.
"Well course, Bud," said Mother with judicial eye, "you can't take them britches off." She paused and looked at him thoughtfully. "I ain't a-going a step without him," reiterated the loyal Eliza, and the rest of the children's faces fell. "Too bad," murmured the Deacon, and Miss Wingate could see that his distress at the plight of young Bud was as genuine as that of any of the rest.
"Well, there's a sell, you know, Uncle Maje. You say, 'They're goin' to tear the schoolhouse down, or something like that, and the other boy says, 'What fur? and then you say, quick as you can, 'Cat-fur to make kitten britches of, and then we all laugh and yell, and I caught Ginger Potts on it, and he got mad when we yelled and come at me, and they pushed him against me and they pushed me against him, and they said he dassent, and they said I dassent, and then it happened, only when I got him down, he begun to say, 'Oh, it's wrong to fight!
'Pears lak you ain't nevah happy 'less you've got yer nose in some book. Heah, Cissy, them britches' laigs is ready to seam up. Mek yer stitches good an' tight, else you'll haf to rip it all out an' do it ovah. Snuff the candle, fust, an' hand me thet hank o' thread an' the shears, befoh you set down."
"I know he was wid me, suh, las' night, at de time when dey say ole Mis' Ochiltree wuz killed. We wuz down ter Sam Taylor's place, havin' a little game of kyards an' a little liquor. Den we lef dere an' went up ez fur ez de corner er Main an' Vine Streets, where we pa'ted, an' Sandy went 'long to'ds home. Mo'over, dey say he had on check' britches an' a blue coat.
It's pretty you'd look clearing out to-morrow and leaving another battalion to come in to take over your new trench and your new sap and your German Gineral and the gold in his britches pocket together." And with that parting shaft he moved on.
"You just wait inside the stable and you'll have 'em back on again before you could say 'Jack Robinson." "I ain' got no use to say no Jack Robason," said Herman. "An' I ain' go' to han' over my britches fer NO cat!" "Listen here, Herman," Penrod began pleadingly. "You can watch us every minute through the crack in the stable door, can't you? We ain't goin' to HURT 'em any, are we?
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