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"Ah! Pastropbon, we got ba-bee' enough presently, en't it?" "Ole woman, nobody else ever strock dat lott'ree for such a prize like dat." The Entomologist An odd feature of New Orleans is the way homes of all ranks, in so many sections of it, are mingled. The easy, bright democracy of the thing is what one might fancy of ancient Greeks; only, here there is a general wooden frailty.
"You keep dat? lill' while? for me? Yass; till I mek out how I goin' to spend her." "Manouvrier, may I make one condition?" "Yass." "It is that you will never play the lottery again." "Ah! Yass, I play her ag'in! You want know whan ole Pastropbon play her ag'in? One doze fine mawning mebbee dat sun going rise hisself in de wes'. Well: when ole Pastropbon see dat, he play dat lott'ree ag'in.
Why do you ask?" "O nut'n'; only I thing you make me luck; nine, h-eighteen, fawty-fo' I play me doze number' in de lott'ree to-day." "Why, pshaw! you don't play the lottery, do you?" "Yass. I play her; why not? She make me reech some of doze day'. Win fifty dollah one time las' year." The soft voice of the wife spoke up "And spend it all to the wife of my dead brother. What use him be reech?
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