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Updated: May 24, 2025
Whar's the man dar's insinivate that? Blood and massacree-ation! whar's the man?" "H'yar," said Bruce, very composedly. "I know that old mar' belongs to Peter Harper, on the north side."
P'r'aps de seben debbils meant chillun." These remarks were received with no favor by the assemblage. "Oh, you git out!" cried Susan. "Your ole woman's got seben chillun, shore 'nuf, an' I s'pec' dey's all debbils. But dem sent'ments don't apply ter all de udder women h'yar, 'tic'larly ter dem dar young uns wot ain't married yit."
"Will it be in the old church, in the woods just beyond Howlett's?" asked Annie. "Right dar," replied Aunt Patsy, with an approving glance towards the young lady. "You 'members dem ar places fus' rate, Miss Annie. Why you didn't tole me, when you fus' come h'yar, dat you was dat little Miss Annie dat I use to tote roun' afore I gin up walkin'?"
Thar's them that's good-natur'd that calls him Wandering Nathan, because of his being h'yar and thar, and every whar. He don't seem much afear'd of the Injuns; but, they say, the red brutes never disturbs the Pennsylvany Quakers.
'Look h'yar, sarpint, says she, 'hab you got anudder ob dem apples in your pocket? An' den he tuk one out, an' gib it to her. ''Cuse me, says she, 'I's gwine ter look up Adam, an' ef he don' want ter know war de tree is wot dese apples grow on, you can hab him fur a corn-field han'.
'E's wort' two hondred pesos." Murphy, the Swede, followed quickly: "Aye ban' send may vages home to may ole' moder, but aye skall bat you some." "Haven't you boys risked enough already?" ventured Miss Chapin. "Remember, it will go pretty hard with the losers." "Harder the better," came a voice. "Y'all don't have to bet, jest because I'm h'yar," gibed Gallagher. "God!
"'Tain't right," she said to Uncle Isham when he arrived, "fur a pow'ful ole pusson like me to set out on a jarney ob dis kin' 'thout 'ligious sarvices. 'Tain't 'spectable." Uncle Isham rubbed his head a good deal at this remark. "Dunno wot we gwine to do 'bout dat," he said. "Brudder Jeemes lib free miles off, an' mos' like he's out ditchin'. Couldn't git him h'yar dis ebenin', nohow."
"H'yar comes the fust dog sled in from the No'th," he cried. "That's the sour doughs for yuh! He's comin' right!" They could hear the faint snarls and barks of dogs yelping far down the cañon. Then the noise swelled up again and drowned the alien sounds.
As to their torturing them, that's not so certain, but the brutes arn't a bit too good for it; and I did h'ar of their burning one poor woman at Sandusky. But now, Captain, if you are anxious to have the young lady, your sister, in safety, h'yar's the place to stick up your tent-poles, h'yar, in this very settlement, whar the Injuns never trouble us, never coming within ten miles of us.
"Wish you was spry 'nuf ter go, Aun' Patsy. She'd b'lieve you; an' she couldn't rar an' charge inter a ole pusson like you, nohow." "Ain't dar nobody else in dis h'yar place to go tell her?" asked Aunt Patsy. "Not a pusson," was Isham's decided answer.
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