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Updated: June 9, 2025
Mars Jeems wuz a ha'd man, en monst'us stric' wid his han's. Eber sence he growed up he nebber 'peared ter hab no feelin' fer nobody. W'en his daddy, ole Mars John McLean, died, de plantation en all de niggers fell ter young Mars Jeems. He had be'n bad 'nuff befo', but it wa'n't long atterwa'ds 'tel he got so dey wuz no use in libbin' at all ef you ha' ter lib roun' Mars Jeems.
"The suner the better, lass," replied her husband. "An' we cudna ha'e a better win'. Jist rin ye hame, an' get some vicktooals thegither, an' come efter hiz to Portlossie." "But hoo 'ill ye get the boat to the watter ohn mair han's? I'll need to come mysel' an' fess Jean." "Na, na; let Jean sit. There's plenty i' the Seaton to help. We're gauin' to tak' the markis's cutter.
They ought to know me better by this time." "Hey, stranger!" he called to a man who was riding past, "have you seen anything of a skinny roan cayuse fifteen han's high, white stocking on the near foreleg, an' a bandage on the off fetlock, Bar-20 being the brand?"
"God rest his puir soul," said McNab, shuddering. "He's out o' our han's now." Gabbett, guided by the Crow, had determined to beach the captured boat on the southern point of Cape Surville. It will be seen by those who have followed the description of the topography of Colonel Arthur's Penitentiary, that nothing but the desperate nature of the attempt could have justified so desperate a measure.
"How did you expect them to hurt me, Uncle Billy?" asked Edgar, laughing. "I was 'feard dey mought make a Injun, or sum'in' out'n you." "G'long, Billy," put in his wife, with increased contempt, "Marse Eddie ain' been socifyin' wid no Injuns he been socifyin' wid kings an' queens' settin' on dey thrones, wid crowns on dey haids an' spectres in dey han's!
"De han's at de saw-mill had des got de big log on de kerridge, en wuz startin' up de saw, w'en dey seed a 'oman runnin up de hill, all out er bref, cryin' en gwine on des lack she wuz plumb 'stracted.
'He never said sic a word in 's life. He wad say, "Poor thing! she was ill-used. Ye maunna sin ony mair. Come, and I'll help ye." He wad say something like that. He'll save a body whan she wadna think it. 'An' I hae gien my bonnie bairn to the deevil wi' my ain han's! She'll come to hell efter me to girn at me, an' set them on me wi' their reid het taings, and curse me. Och hone! och hone!
Wad ye disgrace him afore a' the beggars o' Tiltowie?" "Ay, and afore God, that kens a'thing ohn onybody tellt him! Han's and hert I s' be clear o' this abomination!" "Merry a wuman 'at was ta'en wi' a wat finger! a maiden that never said na! Merry a lass that's nae maiden, nor ever will be! Hoots!" "And wha's to blame for that?" "Hersel." "Jeemie! Jist Jeemie! I'm fair scunnert at ye, Mirran!
"De han's at de sawmill had des got de big log on de kerridge, en wuz start-in' up de saw, w'en dey seed a 'oman runnin' up de hill, all out er bref, cryin' en gwine on des lack she wuz plumb 'stracted.
John had never heard about Sary, so he was unprepared to offer any advice, but he thought best to agree in everything with Jeb, concerning this particular one, and all "widders" in general. "Ye-es siree! That Sary kin ketch any man she starts out to trap. Ef she laid eyes on enny of them farm-hands at Pebbly Pit, like-as-how she has on me, they'd roll right over and eat from her han's.
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