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"We ain't gwine ter have no luck fishin' 'g'ins' no ole black cat." "But cats don't fish, Uncle Peter, do they?" "Law', chile, you'll never know w'at dem critters kin do, 'tel you's watched 'em long ez I has! Keep yo' eye on dat one now." The cat stood by the stream, in a watchful attitude.
Ef you so biggoty, why don't you fool wid some o' dem horn cows? You is a lady, eve'y inch of yer! You knows who to fool wid. You is de uppishes' cow I ever see in all my life puttin' on so much style an' yo' milk so po' an' blue, I could purty nigh blue my starch clo'es wid it. Look out dar, Peggy, how you squeeze 'g'ins' Lady! She ain' gwine teck none o' yo' foolishness.
But you gits dar all the same, don't yer Lady? You gits dar in tukkey-meat ef dey don't reco'nize yer! Well! I'm done mixin' now an' I turns my back on de trough an' advance ter de bars. Lordy, how purty dem cows does look wid dat low sun 'g'ins' dey backs! So patient an' yit so onpatient. Back, now, till I teck out dese rails! Soh, now! Easy, Spot! Easy, Lady!
Fur Gord sake, des look at dem cows! All squez up together 'g'ins' dem bars in dat sof' mud des like I knowed dey gwine be an' me late at my milkin'! You Lady! Teck yo' proud neck down f'om off dat heifer's head! Back, I tell yer! Don't tell me, Spot! Yas, I know she impose on you yas she do. Reachin' her monst'ous mouf clair over yo' po' little muley head. Move back, I say, Lady!
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