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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Yas, suh, I wuz er standin' dar at de cornder o' de house at de time, an' I yered you tell him, an' I would er blebed it, ez I tell you, but dat man is sich er monst'us twister o' de fack dat nuthin' said ter him soun's like de truf. I blebed it when you told him, but de minit he told me it sounded like er lie." "Kintchin, that's putty good sense, anyhow."
"So it may be, Captin'," pursues Seagriff; "but thar's somethin' 'bout these breakin' off an' becomin' bergs ez ain't so well understood, I reckin'; leastways, not by l'arned men. The cause of it air well enough know'd 'mong the seal-fishers ez frequent these soun's an' channels." "What is the cause, Chips?" asked young Gancy, like all the others, interested in the subject of conversation.
De school'ouse wuz n' use' 'cep'n' in de daytime, en on dark nights folks gwine 'long de road would hear quare soun's en see quare things. Po' ole Tenie useter go down dere at night, en wander 'roun' de school'ouse; en de niggers all 'lowed she went fer ter talk wid Sandy's sperrit.
De school-'ouse wuzn' use' 'cep'n' in de daytime, en on dark nights folks gwine 'long de road would hear quare soun's en see quare things. Po' ole Tenie useter go down dere at night, en wander 'roun' de school-'ouse; en de niggers all 'lowed she went fer ter talk wid Sandy's sperrit.
"It's jest she's so darn peculiar-lookin'. It soun's like it might be izzles, but what's izzles? You spell it i-s-l-e-s. Did you ever happen to run acrost that there word, stranger?" Conniston told him what the word was, and Lonesome Pete's softly breathed curse was eloquent of gratitude, amazement, and a certain deep admiration that those five letters could spell a little island.
'It may be 'at ye're richt, laddie; but ye hae a way o' sayin' things 'at 's some fearsome. 'God's nae like a prood man to tak offence, grannie. There's naething pleases him like the trowth, an' there's naething displeases him like leein', particularly whan it's by way o' uphaudin' him. He wants nae sic uphaudin'. Noo, ye say things aboot him whiles 'at soun's to me fearsome.
As had been expected, he obeyed his impulse, pouring down whiskey until he speedily rendered himself utterly helpless; but while his intoxication disabled him physically, it produced for a time an excited and disordered condition of mind in which he was easily imposed upon. Jute shook him and adjured him to get up, saying, "I years quar soun's comin' dis way."
"That's what he's called at the Cross-roads." There he stopped and stared at Matt a moment. "My young master's name's De Willoughby, sah," Matt said; "'n' de names soun's mighty simulious when dey's spoke quick. My young Marse, Rupert De Willoughby, he de gran'son er Jedge De Willoughby, an' de son an' heir er Cun'l De Courcy De Willoughby what died er yaller fever at Nashville."
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