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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Why, I've enough things of my own to look at and think about to last me a week," Cherry breathed ecstatically. "Yes, and s'posing you did get tired of that," spoke up Peace, "there's all the rest of the girls' bundles to 'xamine. They've each got a hundred 'most near, I sh'd think."
"I sh'd hate to try to eat 'em," said the Cap'n, gingerly poking his stubby finger against the rooster's leg. "Eat 'em!" snapped the showman, raking the horns of his long mustache irritably away from his mouth. "You talk like the rest of these farmers round here that never heard of a hen bein' good for anything except to lay eggs and be et for a Thanksgivin' dinner."
Now Vesty, even as stiddy as she is, she 's all'as gittin' the women folks crazy over some new patron for a apern, or some new resute for pudd'n' and pie. So," he added, "ef you sh'd come to me, intendin' to splice, all the advice 't I c'd give 'ud be, I don't know widders; poo! poo! hohum! Wal, wal try widders."
"Suppose the desperate critter sh'd have a knife," thought the Elder. He need not have feared. A more crestfallen, subdued, wretched being than Paul Ganew, as he crawled out of that cart, was never seen. He had his own secret terror, and it had conquered him. "It's more'n me he's afraid of," said the Elder to himself. "This is the Lord's doin', I reckon. Now, Mr.
"I'd love to go and get acquainted with the girls," the guest said, brightly. "Wouldn't you go with me some afternoon and introduce me to the teacher, Marty?" "Me? Ter 'Rill Scattergood? Naw!" declared the amazed Marty. "I sh'd say not!" "Why, Marty!" exclaimed his mother. "That ain't perlite." "Who said 'twas?" returned her hopeful son, shortly. "I ain't tryin' ter be perlite ter no girl.
"I guess that's about my case," remarked Mr. Harum, "an' I sh'd have to admit that I ain't much of a hand fer church-goin'. Polly has the princ'pal charge of that branch of the bus'nis, an' the one I stay away from, when I don't go," he said with a grin, "'s the Prespyteriun." John laughed. "No, sir," said David, "I ain't much of a hand for't.
"I don't care where you're goin'," she said, exultantly, her eyes lingering on the stocky, straight, powerful figure in its rather ill-fitting khaki. "You're here now. That's enough. Ain't you tickled to be home, Chuck? Gee!" "I sh'd say," responded Chuck. But even he seemed to detect some lack in his tone and words. He elaborated somewhat shamefacedly: "Sure. It's swell to be home.
"So she came up with a yaller lace parasol, abeout twelve foot in c'cumf'rence, sorter makin' me think of a tud under a harrer; though, I sh'd have to say it afore the meetin'-house, she was dreadful purty-lookin', an' blamed ef she didn't know it. "Wal, I see she'd made up her mind to kile herself 'reound me, ef she could.
"Well, fourpence: there now!" "And how many can you make in a day?" "I can't make no more than two. Some make three, but it's blessed hard work. But I get a little job now and then to do at home." "But you can't live on seven shillings a week?" "I sh'd think not, indeed. We have to make up the rest as best we can, s'nough." "But your employers must know that?" "In course. What's the odds?
"You see," said Abram's mother, twitching the reins, when at last the old horse decided to start, "I had to hurry away an' get in. I sh'd a-liked to a' set an' passed the time o' day longer with your Ma, but I didn't darst to. It's dretful to have a horse run. I couldn't never a-catched him in all this world, stout as I be. Land!
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