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Updated: June 5, 2025
"It must 'a' be'n a rabbit er somethin' scamp'in' th'ough de woods. G'long dere, Caesar!" As the mule stepped forward, the sound was repeated. This time it was distinctly audible, the long, low moan of some one in sickness or distress. "Dat ain't no rabbit," said Frank to himself. "Dere's somethin' wrong dere. Stan' here, Caesar, till I look inter dis matter."
"G'long with you." "It is, Jem; and that water is naturally hot." "What, like it is at Bath?" "To be sure." "Well, that caps all. Some one said so the other day aboard ship, but I didn't believe it. Fancy a set o' savages having hot water all ready for them. I say, though, Mas' Don, it's very nice."
Daggett.... "For the land sake, Dolly! I ain't urged you beyond your strength, and you know it; but if you don't g'long " A vigorous slap of the reins conveyed Mrs. Daggett's unuttered threat to the reluctant animal, with the result that both ladies were suddenly jerked backward by an unlooked for burst of speed. "I think that horse is dangerous, Abby," remonstrated Mrs.
I'll scrub yer floor better'n she ever kin, an come to look it doos kinder need it," and she turned her agonized eyes a moment upon the floor in affected critical inspection. "Cephas, see that crowd comin. What do they mean? Put them women out. G'long there, git out, quick! Shut the door, Cephas. Put up the bar. What ever's comin to us?" Well might Mrs.
G'long home with yer. Beast!" "That's about settled him," he said as he came back, smiling very widely. "Strange dog, David?" "Strange, sir? Not him. It's that ugly, hungry-looking brute o' Pete Warboys'. That's four times he's been here this morning, chyiking and yelping. You must have been giving him bones." "I? No, I never fed him." "Then cook must. We don't want him here.
"G'long, you old gump!" his spouse had hurled at him wrathfully, ceasing from a vigorous wringing of the mop to grasp the handle with a gesture that was not entirely suggestive of industry. The old man had put up his hand and wriggled in between Melissa and Lysander with a cur-like movement that brought a grim smile to his son-in-law's face, and made Melissa shrink away from him noticeably.
He took out his pipe, looked at it, bethought himself of his promise and put it away again, substituting a chew of tobacco as large as his cheek would hold without prying his mouth open. "G'long, there can't you? You got your belly full of oil shake a wheel and show you're alive." After that, Casey spent every Sunday at Lucky Lode. He liked the widow better and better.
"None in partickler." Another exchange of nods followed. "G'long," said Monroe, after a short silence, during which the calves looked more bored than usual. But the shaky wheels had made but a few revolutions before the owner of the wagon reined in again. "Say," he called back, twisting himself around and resting his hand on the bar that confined the calves.
"G'long," said the trader, as if he would have said it before if he had thought of it. But the horse had taken but a few steps when another voice greeted him. "Howaryer, Monroe?" said Reuben Granger. "Whoa," said Monroe. "Howaryer?" "Been down to the Centre?" asked Reuben. "Yare." "Got some calves in there, I see." "Wal, yes; been doin' some tradin'." Reuben nodded. "Ain't any news, I take it?"
"G'long, Billy," she said, contemptuously. "He ain' no probable. He jes' Mammy's own li'l' chile, if he is growed so tall!" Edgar was crying too, and laughing at the same time. "Howdy, Uncle Billy," said he, stretching a hand to the old man as soon as he could extricate himself from Mammy's embrace. "My, my, you do look scrumptious! How's the rheumatiz?" "Now jes' heah dat!
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