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Updated: June 14, 2025


He jes' mak 'em bite off de heads o' baccer wurms; mysef I'd ruther tuk a lickin." "On Christmus Day, we'd git fiah crackahs an' drink brandy, dat wuz all. Dat day wuz only one we didn't wurk. On Saturday evenin's we'd mold candles, dat wuzn't so bad." "De happies' time o' my life wuz when Cap'n Tipton, a Yankee soljer cumed an' tol' us de wah wuz ober an' we wuz free. Cap'n.

Yo gits yo fiah goin' jes so under de oven, den you shovels some fiah up on top de oven fo to get you bakin jes right. Dey wuz big black kettles wid hooks an dey run up an down like on pulleys ovah de oven stove. Den dere wuz de col'house. No 'lectric ice box lak now, but a house under groun' wheah things wuz kept jest as col' as a ice box. No'em don't 'member jes how it were fix inside."

"Mister Buggone," interrupted Aun' Sheba in a passion which was bursting all restraint, "you'se wrestin' Scripter to you'se own 'struction. Ef you am de head ob dis fam'ly, I'se gwine ter sit down an fole my hans, an you can jes' git out an earn my libin' an' yours too. Git up dar now, an' bring in de wood an' de kinlin' fer de mawnin', an' when mawnin' come, you make de fiah.

"Skundus looked at 'im ez ef he didn' understan'. 'Lawd, Marse Dugal', sez 'e, 'I doan' know w'at youer talkin' 'bout. I ain' runned erway; I ain' be'n nowhar. "'Whar yer be'n fer de las' mon'? said Marse Dugal'. 'Tell me de truf, er I'll hab yer tongue pulled out by de roots. I'll tar yer all ober yer en' set yer on fiah.

"Now de Lawd bress you heart, honey, dar ain't no need ob you blisterin' you'se pretty face ober a fiah, bakin' cakes an' sich. I kin " "No, no, Aun' Sheba, you can't, for I won't let you." "Mara," protested Mrs. Hunter, severely, "do you realize what you are saying? Suppose it became known that you were in in " but the lady could not bring herself to complete the humiliating sentence.

"And what would you hab done wid de fiah, eh?" "Put it out in some way." "And got shot yourself! Your fut isn't as promisc'us as mine and it would hab tooken you longer; it wanted only one slap ob my shoe and de bus'ness war done."

Fiah Fli, Jr. It would be impossible to give the whole program without taking you right into the concert. The Lullabye Mrs. Frisky Frog sang together with Mr. T. Toad Todson, and sang very beautifully. She had sung it a great many times to her own little children while they were still polly-wogs. Only when she sang it to them she altered the chorus Mrs.

I'm dwenched to death with it. If I could only catch fiah like other women, and love somebody, I would much rather have a tete-a-tete with him than go teawing about all day and all night, from one unintwisting cwowd to another. To be sure," said she, puzzling the matter out, "you are a beauty, and would be more looked at." "The idea! and oh no! no! it is not that.

Or even even without him, letting him go, if just you and I Come!" They walked to and fro in embrace: "Dear, our front drawing-room, so ruined, you know, by that shell, last year " "Ah, the front? no! The behine, yes, with those two hole' of the shell and with thad beegue hole in the floor where it cadge fiah."

"I wish it was night," she said. "I hate Christmas afternoon! Mother is asleep; it's too early for callers. I believe I'll go down to the Cabbage Patch." Aunt Chloe stuck out her lip and rolled her eyes in deprecation. "Don' you do it, honey. What you wanter be foolin' 'round wif dat po' white trash fer? Why don' you set heah by de fiah an' bleach yer han's fer de party to-might?"

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