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Updated: May 18, 2025
Then the newcomer answered: 'Well, neighbour dear, in Jingleville We live by faith but we eat our fill; An' what w'u'd we do if it wa'n't fer prayer? Fer we can't raise a thing but whiskers an' hair. 'Cur'us how you can talk po'try, said Uncle Eb. 'The only thing I've got agin you is them whiskers an' thet hair. 'Tain't Christian.
Ann Jane Foster, known as 'Scooter Jane', for her rapid walk and stiff carriage, met us at the corners on her way to the schoolhouse. 'Big turn out I guess, said she. 'Jed Feary 'n' Squire Town is comin' over from Jingleville an' all the big guns'll be there. I love t' hear Jed Feary speak, he's so techin'. Ann Jane was always looking around for some event likely to touch her feelings.
'Don't be scairt, said Uncle Eb. ''Tain' no bear. It's nuthin' but a poet. I knew him for a man who wandered much and had a rhyme for everyone a kindly man with a reputation for laziness and without any home. 'Bilin', eh? said the poet 'Bilin', said Uncle Eb. 'I'm bilin' over 'n the next bush, said the poet, sitting down. 'How's everything in Jingleville? Uncle Eb enquired.
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