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Updated: May 7, 2025
How does that go? Wonder how it feels to be a thief? He! he! he!" Somehow the voice and the words irritated Albert beyond endurance. He lost his relish for supper and went out on the piazza. "Git's riled dreffle easy," said Jim as Charlton disappeared. "Fellers weth idees does. I hope he'll gin Wes'cott another thrashin'." "He's powerful techy," said the Poet. "Kinder curus, though.
"Turk, if she dies, I swear to God I'll kill myself this night!" cried he. "You're talkin' crazy, sir. She's comin' around all right, all right. Hear that? Her eyes'll be busy in a minute, and she'll be askin' where she's at. Just keeled over, that's all. All women does that w'en they git's as glad as she wuz. They faint 'cause it's easier'n it is to tell how much obliged they are. I know 'em.
"I'm man enough ter take yore measure," she flung back at him, "an' I'm comin' towards ye right now. Ef yore hands ain't high when I git's thar, I aims ter kill ye." She moved forward and the bully gave grudgingly back, but at that instant the gigantic on-looker casually laid hand upon him by one shoulder and flung him sidewise as casually as a terrier tosses a rat.
"Boy or girl?" shouted the young father. "Girl!" came back the answer above the roar of the river. Whereupon Raish Dunnell steadied himself with his pick and taking a hatchet from his belt, cut a rude letter "L" on the side of the stranded log. "L's for Lucindy," he laughed. "Now you log if you git's fur as Saco, drop in to my wife's folks and tell 'em the baby's name."
A figure drifted near enough to overhear, and rising slowly Halloway finish up: "Wa'al, stranger, hit's mighty nigh my bed time. I reckon I'll santer up ter my room and lay down. I hopes ye git's took keer of yourself, but ef ye don't ye're right welcome ter bunk in with me." "I'll go with you now," declared the timber buyer.
"When I cook I git's somethin' that I kin see," said Jim Hart. "I never read but one book in my life, an' I didn't find it very sustainin'. I guess if you wuz starvin' to death here in the wilderness, you'd ruther hev a hot hoe cake than all the books in the world." "'Tain't worth while, Paul, to talk to Jim Hart," said Shif'less Sol sadly. "He ain't got no soul above a hoe cake.
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