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Updated: June 2, 2025
I'm the Angel Gabr'el! 'Well, says I, 'if ye're the Angel Gabr'el, cold lead won't hurt ye, so mind yer eyes! At that I drew a bead on 'im, and if ye'll b'lieve it, I knocked a tin horn out of his hands and picked it up the next mornin', and he went off into the woods like a streak o' lightnin'. But my ha'r hain't never come down."
Arter getting yer home among his people, and arter he'd found out thar's a good show fur a big ransom from yer father, jest as like as not he'd make up his mind that the best thing he could do would be to knock ye on ther head and raise yer ha'r, and he'd do it, too." "Well, thank heaven, none of us are in his hands now, and I pray that he may never get us."
As for me, the thought of going with them into that promised land was like wine. Wondering what the place was like, I could not sleep of nights. "Ain't you afeerd to go, Davy?" said Tom to me. "You promised Polly Ann to take me," said I, indignantly. "Davy," said he, "you ain't over handsome. 'Twouldn't improve yere looks to be bald. They hev a way of takin' yere ha'r.
"Stop stop!" commanded Polly, shaking her arm. But Alexia was beyond stopping herself. And in between Candace's delighted recital how she combed "de ha'r to take de curl out," and how "ole Missus' ruffles was made into de clothes," came the peals of laughter that finally made every one in the room stop and look at the girls.
"Ain't no female strangers yar-abouts. Blue eyes?" "Yes." "An' ha'r that sometimes looks black an' sometimes yaller-brown?" "Yes, that's the one all right. Who is she?" "Oh, that!" said Old Mizzou with slight interest, "that's Bill Lawton's girl. Live's down th' gulch. He's th' fella' that was yar afore grub," he explained. For a full minute Bennington stared at the cards in his hand.
The bullet goes plumb through the base of his horn, close into the ha'r, an' all nacheral fetches him sprawlin'. I ain't waitin' to load my gun none, which not waitin' to load, I'm yere to mention, is erroneous. I'm yere to say thar oughter be an act of Congress ag'in not loadin' your gun. They oughter teach it to the yearlin's in the schools, an' likewise in the class on the Sabbath.
I'll prance over an' pull it on Red Dog to-morry. Which it's shore doo to strike'em dumb. "'Now yere's Hoppin' Harry, goes on the Colonel p'intin' to a thin, black little felon with long ha'r like a pony, who's strayed over from Tucson; 'I gives it out cold, meanin' tharby no offence to our Tucson friend I gives it out cold that Hoppin' Harry used to be a t'rant'ler.
"Thar's traits dominant among Injuns which it wouldn't lower the standin' of a white man if he ups an' imitates a whole lot. I once encounters a savage one of these blanket Injuns with feathers in his ha'r an' bein' idle an' careless of what I'm about, I staggers into casyooal talk with him. This buck's been East for the first time in his darkened c'reer an' visited the Great Father in Washin'ton.
"All dis time de goopher wuz a-wukkin'. When de vimes sta'ted ter wither, Henry 'mence' ter complain er his rheumatiz; en when de leaves begin ter dry up, his ha'r 'mence' ter drap out.
Combin' it didn' do no good; he wuk at it ha'f de night wid er Jim Crow , en think he git it straighten' out, but in de mawnin' de grapes 'ud be dere des de same. So he gin it up, en tried ter keep de grapes down by havin' his ha'r cut sho't." "But dat wa'nt de quares' thing 'bout de goopher. When Henry come ter de plantation, he wuz gittin' a little ole an stiff in de j'ints.
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