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Updated: June 14, 2025
It was fort'nit for Joan that she found a friend in grace in Brother Corwin to look arter her share in the property and bring her back tu hum." "She's lookin' peart," said Sister Bradley, "though to my mind that bonnet savors still o' heathen vanities." "Et's the new idees crept in with that organ," groaned Deacon Fairchild; "but sho thar she comes."
No, sir, religion ain't fer the likes o' me. Ye can't play the devil an' mix wi' angels. They're bound to out you. Et's on'y natteral. Guess I'd bin chawin' some, an' ther' wa'n't no spit boxes. That's wher' the trouble come. Ther' wus a raw-boned cuss wi' his missis settin' on the bench front o' me, an' I guess her silk fixin's got mussed up wi' t'bacca juice someways.
The ET's tone of voice was nurturing in spite of her words. "I don't feel well." "You've been overtaken by the mundane. Look out of the window at the volant clouds. Any frothy and floating substance natural or artificial will do: an ocean, trees waving in the winds, passing clouds, soap spinning around in a washer.
Now, if Mammy's ghost is meanderin' round, why, et's about time she left the cemetery and put in an appearance in Jackson's Hall. Thet's all!" "Look yar, boys," said Robinson, rising, "I don't know ez it's the square thing to spile Daddy's fun. I don't object to it, provided she ain't takin' in the old man, and givin' him dead away.
I ain't finished by a sight, an' you'll hear from me agin'. I don't fancy yer life," he went on with a grin. "Et's too easy, I guess. Et's yer bills I'm after. Ye've got plenty an' to spare. But bills is all-fired awk'ud to handle when they pass thro' your dirty hands. So I'll wait till you've turned 'em into stock. Savee? I'm jest goin' right on now.
Four of 'em, an' all found their mark. I 'lows this one's on'y a graze. Might 'a' bin done wi' a knife, et's so clean. Yes, sirree, he was a daddy, sure." As no one seemed inclined to contradict the statement that Anton was a "daddy," and as the question of four shots or three was of no vital interest to the onlookers, the matter passed unheeded. Only Tresler found food for reflection.
"I guv et a rap across the spinal column, when I kim into the valley," said General Nix, thrusting his head in at the door, a ludicrous grin elongating his grisly features. "'Twar a-goin' ter guv me a yard or so uv et's tongue, more or less consider'bly less of more than more of less so I jest salivated it across ther back, kerwhack!"
"Well," he said, "the' isn't any use you seem' the Panchronicon now, is the'?" "What's it like, Mr. Droop?" Rebecca inquired. He paused helpless before the very thought of description. "Oh," he said, weakly, "et's like et's a why Oh, it's a machine!" "Hez it got wings?" "Not exactly wings," he began, then, more earnestly, "why don't ye come and see it, anyway!
"Come down, eh?" commented Charlie. "Well, they're worth that. We'd better take 'em, Nels. We'll need 'em in the spring if we break the north forty." "Yas, et's a nice team," agreed Nels. "Ha vas driven ham ta-day." "Is he haulin' corn?" "Na; he had his kids oop gettin' Christmas bresents." "Chris By gracious! to-morrow's Christmas!" Nels nodded solemnly, as one possessing superior knowledge.
You kind o' make things uneasy. Wal, that's a fault you'll git over. Mebbe, later on, when a feller gits rilin' you you'll work your gun, instead of trying to thump savee into his head. Heads is mighty cur'us out west here. They're so chock full o' savee, ther' ain't no use in thumpin' more into 'em. Et's a heap easier to let it out. But that's on the side.
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