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Updated: May 22, 2025
"If I wasn't afraid of spraining a toe I'd boot you from here to hackenny, you old two-legged cook-stove!" "If there has been damage done, I'll pay for it." "There isn't any damage and I'm not looking for anybody's money. But there will be damage unless you get out of this highway.
"If you don't, we're sendin' that talkin'-machine on legs off to sue and get damages, and report this tavern from Clew to Hackenny, and spoil our chances for a customer, and knock us out generally."
Yes, Providunce sent me here," continued the Cap'n, poking down his tobacco with broad thumb. "There I was, swashin' from Hackenny to t'other place, livin' on lobscouse and hoss-meat; and here you was, pinin' away for some one to love you and to talk to you about something sensibler than dropped stitches and croshayed lamp-mats.
"He must have done some fightin' in his day." "Fight!" cried the showman. He tossed the rooster upon the burlap once more. "Fight! Look at that leg action! That's the best yaller-legged, high-station game-cock that ever pecked his way out of a shell. I've taken all comers 'twixt Hoorah and Hackenny, and he ain't let me down yet. Look at them brad-awls of his!"
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