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After he'd been with them for mor'n a year, the tribe had a terrible battle with the Sioux, and in the scrimmage Rube stole a pony and lit out. He rode on night and day until he came across the cabin of the two trappers I have told you 'bout, and they, of course, took the poor boy in and cared for him.
What's this yere bark Dutch, ain't she?" "Once upon a time; just now we are flying whatever flag cumes handy. We ain't got no prejudice in flags." "Is thet a gun forrard, covered with taupalin?" "Yes, an' yer might find another aft, if yer looked fer it. Mor'n thet, we know how ter use 'em. Now see here, Gates; thar's no reason why we should beat about the bush fact is we're sea rovers."
Th' young lady's got good Amehican dollahs, don' care wha' she's been. She allus smiles when she ask me to do anythin', an' I wouldn' care if she nevah tipped me, 's long as she smiles thataway." "Servants with them, you say?" "Yas, suh; man an' woman, nex' section t'other side the ole folks. Cain't say mor'n fifteen words in Amehican.
"De cat, mos' likely, Miss Wilet," said Agnes, setting down her basket and glancing at puss who was stretched comfortably on the rug before the fire. "I s'pect she's been running ober de bureau, like I see her do, mor'n once 'fo' dis." "She looks very quiet now," remarked Violet, "and if she did the mischief it was certainly not intentional. But don't leave her shut up here again, Agnes."
A woman, a neighbour living a mile beyond the schoolhouse, came by. Sairy went over to the little picket fence and the two talked. "How is she?" "She's dead." "Sho! You don't say so! Poor thing, poor thing! I reckon I thought of her mor'n I slept last night. 'N the child?" "Born dead." Sairy struck her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Sho! War killin' 'em even thar!"
"Sometimes I think myself an artist, sometimes a musician," went on the wistful voice. "Then again I think myself a great man an' doin' somethin' worth while in the world. Then there's times I've thought myself with a family of children an' planned how they should learn mor'n ever I did."
"Whar is yer letter?" asked Uncle Braddock. "Oh, 'tain't writ yit," said Aunt Matilda. "I wants some o' you uns to write it fur me. Kin any o' you youngsters write writin'?" "Yes, ma'am," said John William Webster. "Greg'ry kin write fus-rate. He's been ter school mor'n a month." "You shet up!" cried Gregory, indignantly. "Ise been to school mor'n dat. Ise been free or four weeks.
Three bands of red thar," he drew a long finger across his sleeve, "air my ambition. I reckon then Christianna and all the Thunder Run girls would stop saying 'Billy. They'd say 'Sergeant Maydew. An artillery sergeant's got to be head in ciphering, and he's got to be able to read words of mor'n one one " "Syllable." "That's it.
"O yes, well do I 'member when I was punish' too," said another, "for tryin' to learn to read." Turning to a young exhorter sitting by him, Uncle Dodson said, "Brodder Davis, I've labored in de Gospel mor'n forty years wid de white ministers and wid de black ministers, an' I neber foun' one so deep in de Scriptur' as sistah Hablin." We continued our exercises with good satisfaction.
Mor'n twenty-five of our merchantmen wrecked each year through being stripped of their crews by a 'friendly power. 'Pears to me we couldn't be worse off going to war, an' might be a dum sight better." "Your home an' holdings are three hundred safe miles from the seacoast," objected the man from Manhattan. "Yes, and right next Canada," was the reply.
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