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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Well, you can't be seein' him." "C-can't see him? What do you mean?" "I mean he ain't here, that's what. He's out. He's went out for the night. He's ginerally always out on Friday nights playin' cards at his club, I think. And sometimes he don't come in till it's near breakfast time. If you're a friend of his I sh'd think it'd be likely you'd know that same." "Oh, I do I do," assented Mr.
But one mawnin' she said she'd dreamp' dat night dat Skundus wuz gwine ter come back; en' sho' 'nuff, de ve'y nex' mawnin' who sh'd come walkin' out in de fiel' wid his hoe on his shoulder but Skundus, rubbin' his eyes ez ef he hadn' got waked up good yit.
'Tain't in th' agreement that I sh'd go foolin' around after hostile Injuns in my off time. I shall be sacked, sure. An' me with a wife an' family, too." "No need to worry, Jim," Kiddie assured the man. "You'll not get the sack, and your wife and family won't suffer any. You got hurt in my service, and I will see you through.
And he slapped his thigh with his brawny hand, and burst out into a hearty laugh that seemed to echo on every side, as the stage-coach spun along. "I sh'd think you'd laugh," exclaimed Mrs. Beaseley, in withering scorn, inside the vehicle, "when I've smashed my best bonnet, and shook that bird to death like enough he'll die and tromped all up the front breadth to my dress."
Mars Marrabo couldn' do nuffin' mo' d'n kill 'im an' he mought's well be dead as hidin' in de woods wid nobody ter talk ter er look at ner nuffin'. He had jes' come out 'n de woods an' stahted up dis ve'y road, w'en who sh'd come 'long in a hoss 'n buggy but ole Mars Marrabo, drivin' ober ter dat yuther brickyahd youer gwinter see now.
Daggett and her friend, Maria Dodge. Mrs. Solomon Black's water-waves were crisp and precise, as of yore, and her hard red cheeks glowed like apples above the elaborate embroidery of her dress. "Here, Mis' Black, let me take your cake!" offered Abby Daggett. "I sh'd think your arm would be most broke carryin' it all the way from your house."
"Mrs. Brown 'n' me walked home together," said Susan, as she slowly turned her steps in the direction of her own house. "Mrs. Brown thinks she's got the flower o' the flock in gettin' Henry Ward Beecher. She says he's so big he'll be no care a tall, except to fill his pitcher once in a while." "It's Mrs. Craig as has " said Mrs. Lathrop. "Yes, I sh'd say so," assented Susan.
"I reckon there ain't none of you men any too good," she said; "minister, an' all of ye. Oh! I know enough about men, I sh'd hope! I hearn a lady speak at the Skunk's Holler schoolhouse when I was there at my darter-in-law's last week. She was one o' them suffragettes ye hear about, and she knowed all about men and their doin's.
"What am I good for if it ain't to work?" she demanded, quite fiercely. "When I can't work I want ye sh'd take me back to the poor farm where ye got me an' where I'd been these last 'leven years if it hadn't been for your charity that you're so 'fraid folks will suspect " "Charity!" broke in Uncle Jabez. "Ha! Yes! a fat lot of charity I've showed you, Alviry Boggs.
Course, I'm not sellin' him fer a four-year-old. But for your work, joggin' from the P'int into the village an' back once or twice a week, I sh'd say he was jest the ticket; an' forty-five, harness an' all as he stands, is dirt cheap." Again Captain Bean tried to look critically at the white horse, but once more he met that calm, curious gaze and the attempt was hardly a success.
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