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"I reckon Hump won't come crowin' round heah any more co't days, Mr. Jackson," said our host. But Mr. Jackson swept the room with his eyes and then glared at the landlord so that he gave back. "Where's my man?" he demanded. "Your man, Mr. Jackson?" stammered the host. "Great Jehovah!" cried Mr. Jackson, "I believe he's afraid to race. He had a horse that could show heels to my Nancy, did he?
Manasseh's huge stature and gold-encrusted livery commanded respect in spite of his colour. He addressed her as "woman." "Woman, if you will stop yo' cacklin' and yo' crowin'? Go in now and fetch me fish, fetch me chickens, fetch me plenty eggs. Fetch me a dam scullion. Heh? Stir yo' legs and fetch me a dam scullion, and the chickens tender. His Exc'llence mos' partic'ler the chickens tender."
"Choke that dam fog-horn off!" commanded the Cap'n. "What are ye tryin' to do, advertise this sociable?" "You talk like I was doin' that crowin' myself," returned Reeves, sulkily. "And nobody ain't goin' to squat his wizen and git him out of breath. Hands off, and a fair show!" Hiram Look was no laggard at the meeting.
Well, Madam stopped an' took you out o' my arms, an' hugged you to her breast an' then she geet agate o' kissin' you your head an' your little 'ands. An' you was jumpin' an' crowin' in her arms the wind had blown your cap off, an' your little downy black hair was standing back.
I said no, I didn't feel to be hungry; for I couldn't get that strip of meadow-land out of my head. And it wasn't so much the value of the land, either, though I couldn't well afford to lose it, as it was the idee of McKellop's crowin' and cacklin' all over the neighborhood about it.
What do you 'low Jule Anderson tho't when she hearn tell of your courtin' Betsey, as Betsey told it, with all her nods an' little crowin'? Now looky here, Gus, I'm your friend, as the Irishman said to the bar that hugged him, an' I want to say about all that air that Betsey told you, spit on the slate an' wipe that all off.
"I reckon ye ain't forgot what I told ye: "'Whistlin' gals an' crowin' hens Always come to some bad ends!" "Now, Jabez!" remonstrated Aunt Alvirah. But Ruth only laughed. "You've got it wrong, Uncle Jabez," she declared. "There is another version of that old doggerel. It is: "'Whistling girls and blatting sheep Are the two best things a farmer can keep!"
I don't believe," sez I to myself, "he has ever been bad enough to be turned into anything worse than a sheep or a rooster." And as I didn't hear any blattin' or crowin', and knowed that if he had seen me he would have tried to communicate with his beloved pardner, I felt hopeful he wuzn't there.
I tell 'ee both, that I'm glod the auld man has been caught out at last dom'd glod but ye'll sooffer eneaf wi'out any crowin' fra' me, and I be not the mun to crow, nor be Tilly the lass, so I tell 'ee flat.
Thin here I am, an' why don't you do it. You're crowin' over a boy that you're bigger than. I'll fight you for Thady. Now half-sole my eye if you dar! Eh? Here's my eye, now! Arrah, be the holy man, I'd Don't we know the white hen's in you. Didn't Barny Murtagh cow you at the black-pool, on Thursday last, whin we wor bathin'?" "Come, Ratigan," said Thady, "peel an' turn out.
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