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Updated: May 31, 2025
Assembled at the stile-block in front of him, the people invariably lined up as a long, gaunt farmer, a thin, flat-chested woman, a troop of dusty children, and a yellow dog. "Yass, I cand tell you. It's six sights and a right smart chanst f'm here to Poetical, stranger," the long, gaunt farmer had invariably drawled, with more accommodation than information.
"What'd he say about leavin'?" John laughed and related the conversation as exactly as he could. "What'd I tell ye," said Mr. Harum, with a short laugh. "Mebbe he won't go till to-morro', after all," he remarked. "He'll want to put in a leetle more time tellin' how he was sent for in a hurry by that big concern f'm out of town 't he's goin' to."
Oh, Lord, spah de little chil'en, don't tar de little chil'en away f'm dey frens, jes' let 'em off jes' dis once, and take it out'n de ole niggah. HEAH I IS, LORD, HEAH I IS! De ole niggah's ready, Lord, de ole " The flaming and churning steamer was right abreast the party, and not twenty steps away.
The news thus being passed, the fresher runners scampered ahead, bawling: "FOY-URRR' FOY-URRR! and Linc, the hero, slowed down, gasping for breath and spitting cotton. "Whew!" he whistled, gustily, his arms dropping and his whole frame collapsing. "Gee! I'm 'bout tuckered. Sm-pooh! Sm-pooh! Run all th' way f'm sm-ha, sm-ha! run all th' way f'm mouth's all stuck together p'too! ha! Pooh!
One ear was sot back on his neck, 'n' his tail was stove up, 'n' his eye-winkers was swinged off, 'n' he was all blacked up with powder an' smoke, an' all sloppy with mud 'n' slush f'm one end to the other. "Well sir, it warn't no use to try to apologize we couldn't say a word.
'Bout hahf way to de mahket, I meets a couple o' stewards f'm a U.S. navy cutter anchored off de navy yard. "Hol' on, dar, boy, 'dey sing out, 'wha you gwine so fas'? Grab dis here basket an' tote hit down to de dock.
"He's ben in the bank a matter o' five or six year, but Dave got down on him fer some little thing or other, an' he's got his walkin' papers. He says to me, says he, 'If any feller thinks he c'n come up here f'm N'York or anywheres else, he says, 'an' do Dave Harum's work to suit him, he'll find he's bit off a dum sight more'n he c'n chaw.
I suppose it was Miss Harbison I saw go past this morning? Don't move, my little man." "I do' know," demurred the washer-woman, whose sole recreation in life was the faculty of speech. "I ain't seen Mis' Harbison to town to-day. They's him and her and the boys. Both the boys is away f'm home now. What-fer lookin' woman?" "It was a young lady in a wide hat."
"David sets all the store in the world by him," stated Mrs. Bixbee to a friend, "though he don't jest let on to not in so many words. He's got a kind of a notion that his little boy, if he'd lived, would 'a' ben like him some ways. I never seen the child," she added, with an expression which made her visitor smile, "but as near 's I c'n make out f'm Dave's tell, he must 'a' ben red-headed.
"It's as dange'ous as a gun, and a gun is dange'ous widout lock, stock, er bairl: I knowed a man oncet w'at beat 'is wife ter def wid a ramrod, an' wuz hung fer it in a' ole fiel' down by de ha'nted house. Dat gun couldn't hol' powder ner shot, but was dange'ous 'nuff ter kill two folks. So you jes' better keep 'way f'm dat railroad track, chile."
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