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Updated: May 19, 2025
"your most hble Srvt, "David Sproat "Comm. Gen. for Naval Prisoners." David Sproat to Abraham Skinner, American Commissary of Prisoners. New York lst June 1782
Dog my cats ef de seetfulness er dat jug don't git away wid me," continued Uncle Remus, with a chuckle. "I wuz comm' 'cross de bridge des now, an' Brer John Henry seed me wid de bag slung onter my back, an' de jug in it, an' he ups an' sez, sezee: "'Heyo, Brer Remus, ain't it gittin' late for watermillions? "Hit wuz de seetfulness er dat jug.
"I's comm', Massa Tom," rejoined the colored man. "Never mind coming here! Get a move on, and get to the switchboard. Turn the current out of the fence wires. "Yis, sir, I'll go Massa Tom," declared the old man. "Is he a spotter, Ned?" demanded the inventor. "He's no friend. I am going out by the gate. He's got something there that means harm, I believe. Do you think he's killed, Tom?"
By letter to the adjutant-general, wherein he requested the transmission of the information to the secretary of war. Report of Comm. on Conduct of the War, ii. pt. i. 13. The addition in the Report is erroneous, being given as 54,456 instead of 55,456. See Comte de Paris, Civil War in America, i. 626, 627. See discussion by Swinton, Army of Potomac, 108 et seq.
"I tell ye, Rome," he said, taking up the thread of talk that was broken at the cave, "when Uncle Gabe says he's afeard thar's trouble comm', hit's a-comm'; 'n' I want you to git me a Winchester. I'm a-gittin' big enough now. I kin shoot might' nigh as good as you, 'n' whut am I fit fer with this hyeh old pawpaw pop-gun?" "I don't want you fightin', boy, I've told ye.
Calling to the colored man, Tom pointed to the stranger, who was almost out of sight down the road, and said earnestly: "Rad, do you see that fellow?" "I sho do, Massa Tom, but I sorter has t' strain my eyes t' do it. He's goin' laik my mule Boomerang does when he's comm' home t' dinnah." "That's right, Rad. Well, never let that man set foot inside our fence again!
We'll make yuh wisht, by cripes, we had, though, b'fore we git through. Git to work, boys, 'n' gether up some dry grass an' sticks. Over there in them rose-bushes you oughta find enough bresh. We'll give him a taste uh what we was talkin' about comm' over, by cripes! I guess he'll be willin' to drive sheep, all right, when we git through with him. Haw-haw-haw-w-w!"
"As I said, we was campin' there, and 'long about midnight we seen somethin' tall and white, and all shimmerin', with a sort of yellow fire, slidin' down the side of the mountain It made straight for our camp." "Huh! Guess you run, didn't you, Jed?" asked Bill Slatterly. "Course we did. You'd a run too, if you seen a ghost comm' at you, an' firm' a gun." "Ghosts can't fire guns!" declared Bill.
That he could run through quickly, now that he knew the title of the book. The register was soon before him, and, knowing that the old man had died more than twenty years ago, he gave him a good margin, and turned back to 1870. There was but one entry possible. 1875, August 14th. Talmud: Tractatus Middoth cum comm. R. Nachmanidae. Amstelod. 1707. Given by J. Rant, D.D., of Bretfield Manor.
Hope she wrote a letter. Said she had not herd from you. also that somebody wrote to her you was goin to be married. You had oughter write her a letter, Bill. Looks to me so you hain't used her right. Shes a comm horn in July. Sowed corn to day in the gardin. David is off byin catul. I hope God will take care uv you, boy, so goodbye from yours truly
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