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Updated: May 25, 2025
"Have you no respec' whatever fer the dignity o' our common horsehood?" the yellow horse squealed. "Nary respec' onless the horse kin do something. America's paved with the kind er horse you are jist plain yaller-dog horse waitin' ter be whipped inter shape. We call 'em yearlings an' colts when they're young. When they're aged we pound 'em in this pastur'. Horse, sonny, is what you start from.
"I'll be dead in a minute!" Sammy Smiles held fast to his nose, and made haste to bend over his principal, whom he pretended to examine. "Bring bandages!" he shouted. "Help me to stop him from bleeding to death." "It's nary a bit of use," groaned the Vermonter. "No feller ever lived with his jubilee vein cut in two!"
"Food!" says I. "Nary a bite!" he answered, shaking his head. "But here's rum now if you've a mind to sluice the ivories ha?" "Not a drop!" says I. "Good! The more for me!" he nodded. "Rum ha "Some swam in rum to kingdom come" "You sing a mighty strange song!" quoth I. "Ha d'ye like it?" "No, I don't!" "And wherefore no?" "There seems overmuch death in it."
Yo' know, an' Juddy, he knows ..." to Donald there seemed to be some special significance in her words, "thet thar haint a-goin' ter be nary a drap o' thet devil's brew in house o' mine. Why, I be plumb s'prised at ye, grandpap." The tremendous old man rubbed his whiskers faster and hemmed apologetically.
It must hev been like pullin teeth fer Deacon tew pay aout cash fer work seein ez he's made his debtors dew all his farmin fer him this five year, but he hed tew come tew 't, fer his rowen wuz a spilin, an nary one o' his debtors would lif a finger 'thout bein paid for 't."
They've half-a-dozen guns in every cabin, but nary a hoe; they've more yaller dogs then the rest o' us hev sheep, an they find hit a good deal handier ter kill other folks's hogs than ter raise ther own pork." "Hardly desirable neighbors, I should think," ventured Harry. "Hit's war all the time between our kind o' people, and them other kinds.
The instruments were quiet, a good Thanksgiving dinner had been enjoyed and now the smoke from his old "T. D." pipe curled in graceful rings around his red head. Denny was a smashing good operator and some eighteen months before he had landed in St. Louis dead broke. All the offices and railroads were full and nary a place did he get.
He saw that he was swinging uncertainly on his legs and that his face had turned to a shade of blue. "Good Lord!" he cried, "you ain't goin' t' not you, too." The tattered man waved his hand. "Nary die," he said. "All I want is some pea soup an' a good bed. Some pea soup," he repeated dreamfully. The youth arose from the ground. "I wonder where he came from. I left him over there." He pointed.
Thin he takes hold av th' thing an' lifts fer th' good av his soul. Nary a inch does it move. "'I wud have opened it, but I heard th' captin's order not to disturb th' charts atop av it, sez I. "'Ye would, ye thafe, sez he. 'An' if ye had, inter irons would ye go fer th' raskil ye are. I never thought ye ware so bad, Chips, sez he.
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