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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Don't know yet," Dick laughed. By the aid of the crowbar Dick pried the stone loose from its setting in the ground. "There's a hole underneath, anyway," announced Dick. "And Geewhillikins! Fellows, drop everything but your good names, and come here quick! Hustle!"
I wouldn't hev believed that such critters ever tramped around our globe ef I hadn't seen their bones. I come acrost a little salt lick last night we may see it in passin' afore mornin' but thar wuz big bones 'roun' it too. I measured myself by 'em an' geewhillikins, Henry, what critters them wuz!
"Geewhillikins," I says, "but what does the rest of it mean?" "We ain't got no time to bother over that," he says; "we got to dig in like all git-out." "Well, anyway," I says, "what's SOME of it? What's a fess?" "A fess a fess is YOU don't need to know what a fess is. I'll show him how to make it when he gets to it." "Shucks, Tom," I says, "I think you might tell a person. What's a bar sinister?"
March, with her hand on her husband's arm, begged him to sit down and "stop acting so silly." "Geewhillikins!" cried Mr. March, "Joel's caught! No, he's not yet Eh? Too bad, too bad. Run, Joel, he's got ye!" Suddenly Mr. March, who had almost subsided on his seat, jumped again to his feet. "Here! Stop that, you fellow! Hi!" He turned angrily to Outfield, his eyes blazing.
"Geewhillikins," I says, "but what does the rest of it mean?" "We ain't got no time to bother over that," he says; "we got to dig in like all git-out." "Well, anyway," I says, "what's SOME of it? What's a fess?" "A fess a fess is YOU don't need to know what a fess is. I'll show him how to make it when he gets to it." "Shucks, Tom," I says, "I think you might tell a person. What's a bar sinister?"
Anyhow, crazy or no, I guess you're meat just the same, an', by the great Geewhillikins! you'll be dead meat, an' digested meat at that, before you're an hour older, my son, if I know anything o' wolves." Later, as he proceeded to thaw out his supper, "Well, I do reckon that's a blame pity," growled Willis to his fire, by way of epitaph. And for Jim Willis that was saying a good deal.
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