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Updated: June 22, 2025
There was cries of "Silence! Shame! Put him out! The Skoffer!" "Ain't we at the Spotted Boar?" the lan'lord hoarsely whispered. "No," I answered. "It's another kind of bore. Lis'en. Cromwell is goin' to speak through our inspired fren', now." "Is he?" said the lan'lord "is he? Wall, I've suthin to say, also. Was this Cromwell a licensed vittler?" "Not that I ever heard," I anserd.
"Lis'en ter dat ole hoot owl," he exclaimed excitedly, "he's a-settin' right over dar on dat dead limb a-hootin' us plum in de mouf. Ain' dat like 'em, now? Is you ever seed sech airs as dey put on?" He strode off into the darkness, and Dan, seized with a sudden homesickness for the army, lay down beside his musket and fell asleep.
Well, sar, soon ez eber de moon riz, Brer Rabbit, he stole out'n his house, and he lit right out fur dem goobers; and by'mby he sees de tar man er stanin' dar, an' he hollers out, 'Who's dat er stanin' dar an' er fixin' ter steal Brer Fox's goobers? Den he lis'en, and nobody nuver anser, and he 'gin ter git mad, and he sez, sezee, 'Yer brack nigger you, yer better anser me wen I speaks ter yer; and wid dat he hault off, he did, and hit de tar baby side de head, and his han' stuck fas' in de tar.
Tracey was quiet for a time, working with the regularity of a mind relieved. But presently he felt unable to contain himself. Gratitude surged in his bosom, and he had to speak. "Sa-y, lis'en...." "Proceed, Tracey." "Say, Mist Nat, you've treated me somethin' immense." "Your mistake, Tracey. I haven't treated anybody since I've been here: I'm on the wagon."
"You cyarn see yo' han' befo' you fur de way dey's w'igglin' roun' de street, en w'at's mo' you cyarn heah yo' own w'uds fur de racket dey's a-kickin' up. Des lis'en ter 'em now, des lis'en!" "Oh, I wish I could tell our guns," murmured Dan at each quick explosion. "Hush! there comes the cheer, now somebody's charging! It may be our brigade, Big Abel, and I not in it."
He had now the latter's General Order, and he was almost a day behind. Somewhat later, in the house which he occupied, his chief of staff, Ewell and the brigadiers gone, the old man, Jim, appeared before him. "Des you lis'en ter me er minute, gineral!
Caze de Lord knowed weneber dey seed de s'ord dar dey wan't gwine ter facin' it. Oh, den, lis'en at de message dis ebenin'. "'Dey young men shall die by de s'ord. "Dey ain't no way fur ter git roun' dem famines.
"Goin' back jail 'morra, Ol' Dear goin' finish out my life sentence," when she reminded him of the lateness of the hour and her weariness, and he resented her interference so fiercely when she countermanded an order that she dared not repeat it. "You lis'en me, waiter, thish my party. Might think I was town drunkard village sot way my wife tryin' flag me." Mrs.
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