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Updated: May 1, 2025
"I didn't see yur a-comin' in, or I mout 'a spoke sooner. I've got a smart lick across the arm, an' I wur just a-tyin' it up as ye tumbled in thur. Who did 'ee think this child wur?" "I did not think you were anyone. I took you for a grizzly bear." "Ha! ha! ha! He! he! he! I thort so, when I heard the click o' your pistol. He! he! he!
She was weeping because Nená, the chief of Môut, was waiting in the house to kill her if her husband should be slain. But she did not weep because of the fear of death; it was for her children she wept. That is the way of women. What is the life of a child to the life of a man? "Nená was my father's brother. He was a brave man, but was too old to fight, for his eyes were dimmed by many years.
"Yes, but I can't help from holdin' that a man that will nip you in a hoss swop one time will do it agin if he gets the chance." "Well," she said, "you would have nipped him if you could." "Yes, that mout be, but I wouldn't have come round preachin' to him afterwards. Go on in, you young folks, and I'll waller around here a while and then go down and see how my hosses air gettin' along."
You're hyar an' hit mout prove right hard ter keep my eyes turned t'other way. I'm an easy-goin' sort of feller anyhow, an' I likes ter let my glance kind of rove hyar an' thar." Her hands trembled on the gun and her voice shook into huskiness. "Begone," she warned. "I kain't hold down my temper much longer."
But as quickly the arms drew back, and the expression clouded with doubt. "No...." reflected Bas without words. "No, hit ain't needful nohow ... an' Jase Burrell mout detect I'd done hit." The bending figure straightened again and its hands began calmly rifling the pockets of the wounded man's coat.
"Wal," commenced Rube, after a moment's silence, "'twur about six yeern ago, I wur set afoot on the Arkansaw, by the Rapahoes, leastwise two hunder mile below the Big Timmer. The cussed skunks tuk hoss, beaver, an' all. He! he!" continued the speaker with a chuckle; "he! he! they mout 'a did as well an' let ole Rube alone." "I reckon that, too," remarked a hunter.
When North had again related the story of his finding the child, Trinidad Joe pondered. "It mout hev been stowed away in one of them crates for safe-keeping," he said, musingly, "and washed off the deck o' one o' them Tahiti brigs goin' down fer oranges. Least-ways, it never got thar from these parts." "But it's a miracle its life was saved at all. It must have been some hours in the water."
"I takes me headlong flight by way o' the back room and on-root pitches Peg-leg's gun over into the canon, too, an' then whips around the corner of the saloon an' fetches out ag'in by the street in front. With his gun gone an' his leg gone, Peg-leg so long's y'ain't within arm's reach is as harmless as a horned toad. So I kinda hangs 'round the neighbourhood jes' to see what-all mout turn up.
That's the reason father let me come up here. So I couldn't be extravagant." "He is determined to be literal," she said with a sigh. Lou gathered up a handful of flowers that lay in Mrs. Mayfield's lap. "Let me have these," and she began to weave them into the city woman's hair. "Why, daughter," cried Margaret, "don't do that. She mout not like it." "Oh, don't stop her, please," Mrs.
All I've got to do is to act, an' you go to the penitentiary." Upon Starbuck's face there was an expression of keen suffering. Pleadingly he put up his hands, looking toward the door leading into the kitchen and exclaimed. "Hold on. Somebody mout hear you." "Oh, got you to thinkin', have I?" "Yes, an' a man thinks better when he's by hisse'f."
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