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Updated: May 17, 2025
Cain't you see nothin', you dash-dashed aig-suckin', sheep-stealin', one-eyed son of a stuffed monkey!
Suddenly the dark grim tide that had seemed to engulf Ellen's very soul cooled and receded, leaving her without its false strength. She began to sag. She stared at Isbel's gun. "Kill him," whispered the retreating voices of her hate. But she was as powerless as if she were still held in Jean Isbel's giant embrace. "I I want to kill y'u," she whispered, "but I cain't.... Leave me."
"Cain't tell who might come ridin' in these nights," he growled by way of explanation for his curt welcome. "Set up and eat a bite now yo' 're here." The lateness of the meal and the general dishevelment of the room's occupants made it clear to the guest that every one had been riding hard that day.
Like a tidal wave it rolls around the world, foaming at its crest in a golden spray of gifts and love. The mystic hour. "Oh, just a little longer, just a little longer." "No, no. You cain't hardly prop your eyes open now. Come now. Get to bed. Now, Elmer Lonnie; now, Mary Ellen; now, Janey; now, Eddie; now, Lycurgus.
Or we'll let down a rope to you." "What'll we knock a hole in the roof with?" demanded Bob, and when offers were made to drop an axe down to him he had difficulty in calming the woman who had so nearly strangled Louise, and who had visions of being accidently decapitated. "I cain't get the doors open," announced the darky, after tinkering vainly with them. "I reckon the lock's done got jammed.
"Den he cain't git no situation. What he gwyne to do?" "Well, I don't know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them learns people how to talk French." "Why, Huck, doan' de French people talk de same way we does?" "NO, Jim; you couldn't understand a word they said not a single word." "Well, now, I be ding-busted! How do dat come?" "I don't know; but it's so.
So my normal occupations often were interrupted by such calls as these: "John's Lize Ann she ain't much; cain't you-uns give her some easin'-powder for that hurtin' in her chist?" "Old Uncle Bobby Tuttle's got a pone come up on his side; looks like he mought drap off, him bein' weak and right narvish and sick with a head-swimmin'."
Sparks were falling among them, the fire veered slightly forward; and the survivors were crowding uneasily over the fallen ones, catching that curious sense of danger which forewarns creatures of the wild before the Northers, a burning forest, or creeping flood, to move on. "You cain't leave 'em so," muttered the stranger. "No; I seen you " He did not finish.
I cain't watch Navvyies 'n' mill things over in m' haid at the same time." Lite grinned and wriggled over so that his back was against a rock. He laid his six-shooter Ostentatiously across his lap and got out his tobacco and papers. "Go ahead and think, Applehead," he consented placidly. "I'll guard your scalp-lock." Speaking literally, Applehead had no scalplock to guard.
She finally makes up her mind it's a bran'-new one, an' sends fer Jud an' asts him what he knows about it. An' he cain't lie a little bit, so he up an' tells her that her pianner is all inter sawdust an' scrap-iron down on the rocks, an' that this is a new one that he owes a hundred an' fifty dollars on down ter Fresno. "Then she busts out a-laughin', an' says: "'Why, that old tin-pan!
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