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"Did Miss Wakeley and Miss Thielman both go out?" demanded Lloyd quickly. "Did they both go on a call?" "Yes, Miss Lloyd," answered Rownie. "I don't know because why Miss Wakeley went, but Miss Esther Thielman got a typhoid call another one. That's three f'om this house come next Sunday week. I reckon Miss Wakeley going out meks you next on call, Miss Lloyd."
An' the sight of tar an' feathers meks a mighty strong argument, too, Ise heared tell." "Jeff," said the judge, "I'm astonished that you'd even suggest sech a thing! Mob law is worse even than no law at all.
"But ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he nuvver did furgive Marse Chan, and Miss Anne she got mad too. Wimmens is mons'us onreasonable nohow. Dey's jes' like a catfish: you cann' tek' hole on 'em like udder folks, an' when you gits 'em yo' can n' always hole 'em. "What meks me think so?
He's an uncommon clever stiddy fellow, an' wonderful strong. Lord bless you, sir if you'll hexcuse me for saying so he can walk forty mile a-day, an' lift a matter o' sixty ston'. He's an uncommon favourite wi' the gentry, sir: Captain Donnithorne and Parson Irwine meks a fine fuss wi' him. But he's a little lifted up an' peppery-like." "Well, good evening to you, landlord; I must get on."
Taint nevah right to git a lady's cur'osity riz." "Oh, nemmine, nemmine, I ain't gwine keep yo' cur'osity up long. You see, Sistah Griggs, you done 'lucidated one p'int to me dis night dat meks it plumb needful fu' me to speak." She was looking at him with wide open eyes of expectation. "You made de 'emark to-night, dat it ain't no ha'dah lookin' out aftah two dan one." "Oh, Brothah Hayward!"
'Tain't good luck no how to carry yer gun on yer lef' shoulder. When you do it meks yer take a longer step with yer right foot than ye do with yer lef' an' ye can't walk a straight line to save yer liver. Ventreblue! La venaison brule encore! Look at that dasted meat burnin' agin!" He jumped back to the fire to turn the scorching cuts.
'Ca'se likewise an' furthermo' I also is been off my feed ain't that a sign to you?" "Sign of a tapeworm, I 'spects." "Don't say that, please, Ma'am," he humbly pleaded. "You speakin' in sich a way meks me 'most discouraged to confide in you whut I aims to confide in you. I'm tellin' it to you the fust one, too. 'Tain't nary 'nother soul heared it.
An' we goes into t' drawn-room wheer her husband was a-settin'. They meks a gurt fuss ower t' dog an' I has a bottle o' aale, an' he gave me a handful o' cigars. Soa I coomed away, but t' awd lass sings out 'Oh, Mister Soldier, please coom again and bring that prettee dog. I didn't let on to t' Colonel's Laady about Mrs.
An' we goes into t' drawn-room wheer her 'usband was a-settin'. They meks a gurt fuss ovver t' dog an' I has a bottle o' aale, an' he gave me a handful o' cigars. Soa I coomed away, but t' awd lass sings out "Oh, Mister Soldier, please coom again and bring that prettee dog." I didn't let on to t' Colonel's Laady about Mrs.
"Well, about a fortnight or sich a matter arfter dat, Cun'l Chahmb'lin sont over an' invited all o' we all over to dinner, an' Marse Chan wuz 'spressly named in de note whar Ned brought; an' arfter dinner he made ole Phil, whar wuz his ker'ige-driver, bring roun' Marse Chan's pony wid a little side-saddle on 'im, an' a beautiful little hoss wid a bran'-new saddle an' bridle on 'im; an' he gits up an' meks Marse Chan a gre't speech, an' presents 'im de little hoss; an' den he calls Miss Anne, an' she comes out on de poach in a little ridin' frock, an' dey puts her on her pony, an' Marse Chan mounts his hoss, an' dey goes to ride, while de grown folks is a-laughin' an' chattin' an' smokin' dey cigars.
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