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"Mas' Edd'ern," said he, finally, "kin you tell me why de rivah is out all ovah de lan' down below, and why dere's so many people wu'kkin' tryin' to stop de breaks?" "No," said Eddring. "I know there's a big overflow, and it's getting worse." "Mas' Edd'ern," said Jack, stepping close to him, "dar's been a heap of devil-ment to wu'k down dah." "What do you know about it?" "I knows a heap about it.
Then I found that what they meant by an English accent was an English affectation of speech a drawl with a tendency to "aw" and "ah" everything. They thought that every one in England who did not miss out aspirates where they should be, and put them in where they should not be, talked of "the rivah," "ma brothar," and so on.
If you want to say, 'I am going on the river, say it plainly and don't tell us you are going on the 'rivah! You must say her, not har; it's God, not Gud: remonstrance, not remunstrance," and so forth. No one ever had a sharper tongue or a kinder heart than Mrs. Kean. Beginning with her, I have always loved women with a somewhat hard manner!
"That's all right," answered Lloyd, tossing the olive stone out on the grass, and helping herself to a beaten biscuit. "I always did think that Elaine was a dreadful goose to go floating down the rivah to a man who didn't care two straws about her. She'd much bettah have held on to a wish-bone and an olive and stayed up in her high towah with her fathah and brothahs who appreciated her.
They weave a few twigs and sticks togethah just in any kind of way, and nevah mind a bit if their poah little young ones fall out of the nest. They seem to think that any kind of home is good enough, and that is the kind of a home that Elizabeth Lewis has. She is a poah little orphan, and is livin' on a farm up Green Rivah. Mother is her godmothah. That's why she is named Elizabeth Lloyd. Mrs.
"So that's why everything was so clean! That was nice of her " "Yo'all is Ralestones, Miss 'Chanda. An' Lucy say dat de Ralestones am a-goin' to fin' dis place jest ready for dem when dey come." He beamed upon them proudly. "Lucy, she am a-goin' be heah jest as soon as she gits de chillens set for de day. I'se come fust so's Ah kin see wat Mistuh Ralestone done wan' done wi dem rivah fiel's "
And speakin' of the trail, that wasn't the Red Rivah yo' crossed. It was the Wichita. And yo' must have gone ovah the Wichita Mountains, too." "The Wichita!" ejaculated one of the other men. "Why, Modoc, yuh told us " "And I told yuh right!" said the leader furiously. "I've been over this route before, and I know just where we are." "Yo're in The Terror's territory," drawled The Kid softly.
One time dey was a drouth, an de water we hauls from way ovah to de rivah. Now dat wuz down right wuk, a haulin dat water. Dey wuz an ol' man, he were powerful in prayer, an gather de darkies unda a big tree, an we all kneels down whilse he pray fo de po' beastes what needs good clean water fo to drink. Dat wuz a putty sight, dat church meetin' under de big tree.
I like any spiritual, all of dem." "Dey batize all de young men and women, colored folks. Dey sing mos any spirtual, none in paticlar. A bell toll foh a funeral. At de baptizen do de pracher leads dem into de rivah, way in, den each one he stick dem clear under. I waz gonna be batize and couldn. Eva time sompin happin an I couldn.
"I'll prove it," sighed the kid patiently. "What rivah was that yo' crossed a few days ago?" "Why, the Red River; we crossed it long ago," Modoc sneered. "Yo're either a liar or a fool, Kid! And I'd advise yuh to mind yore own business." "Call me 'Wolf," said the Texan, a ring of steel in his voice. "I'm just 'The Kid' to friends. Others call me by mah last name.
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