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Updated: June 4, 2025
"An' mercy knows what Miss Julia done say when she find yo' here," she muttered, tucking them in snugly. Archibald sat up in bed. "I want Custard!" "Yo' go 'long ter sleep, young sir," Sarah expostulated. "What yo' think Marse Santa Clause goin' say ter such goin's-on?" "I want Custard!" "Let him have him, Sarah!" Patricia exclaimed. "Miss P'tricia! 'Low that onery dog on yo' aunt's bed!"
"What in thunder does it amount to what you tell these onery gallinippers? They'll lie to you as fast as a hoss kin trot. There's no devilment they won't do, and there kin be nothin' wrong in anything you kin do and say to them." "Everybody settles some things for himself," said the unchangeable Si. "I believe them folks are as bad as they kin be made.
Slim was dead; he wouldn't have to get supper for Slim ever again. And he had killed him! Mechanically he poked his finger into the dough. It was rising. He could work it out pretty soon. Slim was dead; he need not get supper for Slim; he kept looking at him to see if he had moved. How sinister, how "onery" Slim looked even in death.
This kindness was duly appreciated by Hannah, and that night, in speaking of Janet to her son, she pronounced her "not quite so onery a white woman as she at first took her to be." As the days wore on Janet's presence in the family was felt in various ways.
"Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" he coaxed. "Doggone your onery soul, I'm gitting tired of this kinda performance! You can tromp on me just so fur and no further, now I'm a-tellin' yuh. That there tail of yourn needs a fresh rag tied to it, and some salve. But I ain't the burrowin' kind of animal, and I ain't comin' in under there after yuh. Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!
Gooch told me to; but it doesn't balance. We'll just have to keep on cutting down expenses until it does." "An' you are going to begin on me," said Myrtella furiously, "an' git in some onery nigger that'll carry home more in a basket than my wages would come to!" "No, Myrtella; we are going to try to do the work ourselves." "You mean you are!
When dem white-livered, no-count, onery gemmens dat stole Marse George's money git in de chain-gang, whar dey b'longs, den may be we'll hab sumpin' to go to market on, but dat ain't yit; an' don't ye tell Marse George I tol' yer or I'll ha'nt ye like dat witch I done heared 'bout down to Wesley ha'nt ye so ye'll think de debble's got ye."
"If you do," muttered Copley, close under the bat, "I'll swallow the ball." A moment later Rod swung at a corner cutter, whirled all the way round, and sprang at Copley, a look of such blazing wrath in his eyes that the red-headed catcher retreated with ludicrous haste. "You onery, sheep-herding skunk!" rasped the Texan. "If you touch my bat again, I'll grease the ground with you!
"But you don't know," she said, smiling at the old man's extravagant recommendation of his hero. "I don' know, but I bet he is," said he. "Look at 'em!" he chuckled; "look at old Nick Ha'gus and his onery, low-down Injun-blood boy!" Vesta rode out to meet them as they were coming back, to make sure of her thanks. She was radiant with gratitude, and at no loss any longer for words to express it.
One planter cried: "You saved his worthless life once before and said the law would punish him. How has he been punished! By shooting down some of our best neighbors. I say a bullet ought to let daylight through his onery carcass, and I'll be the one to fire it."
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