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Updated: May 16, 2025
"For twenty year I've been lectured and scolded, an' some good men's come to me with tears in their eyes, and put their arms 'roun' my neck, an' begged me to stop drinkin'. An' I've wanted to, an' tried to, but when all the encouragement a man gits is in words, an' no matter how he commenced drinkin', now ev'ry bone an' muscle in him is a beggin' fur drink ez soon as he leaves off, an' his mind's dull, an' he ain't fit fur much, an' needs takin' care of as p'tic'ler ez a mighty sick man, talk's jist as good ez wasted.
The blood rushed into his hollow cheeks until they burned, and then he began to cough. "Petersen!" said the woman anxiously, supporting his back. "Petersen!" She sighed and shook her head, while she helped him to struggle through his fit of coughing. "When the talk's about the Court shoemaker Petersen always gets like one possessed," she said, when he had overcome it.
"I'd knock the heads o' these young scamps t'gether yessir! I could do it, too!". "Talk's a good dog, uncle," said a young man. The old man turned on him so ferociously that he fled. "Run, condemn yeh! I own y' can beat me at that." His face was not unpleasant, though his teeth were mainly gone, and his skin the color of leather and wrinkled as a pan of cream.
"You're the most delicate thing I know, and it crops up with effect the oddest in the intervals of your corruption. Your talk's half the time impossible; you respect neither age nor sex nor condition; one doesn't know what you'll say or do next; and one has to return your books c'est tout dire under cover of darkness.
"That talk's no use with me, mamma." "Renie; you you wouldn't do it you wouldn't refuse him?" Her reply leaped out suddenly, full of fire: "It's not me or my feelings you care anything about. Every one but me you think about first. What about me? What about me? I'm the one that's got to do the marrying and live with him. I'm the one you're trying to sell off like I was cattle. I'm the one!
Yet they have never uttered a word of complaint and every summer they pay me a visit, just to show they are not angry with me." The old man's face looked so dead now, and his voice sounded so hollow! The son could not tell whether he was trying to come out with something or whether he talked merely for talk's sake.
Might get us into trouble, eh?" "Humph! I don't know who with. Everybody's talkin' about it, anyway. Up to the boardin' house they've been talking about mighty little else ever since he died." "I know, but talk's one thing and print's another. I'm goin' to leave it out.
By the second week the talk's all run out of you, like molasses out of a hogshead. Then you set and think." "I see. And so much thinking tends to bring out ah philosophy, I suppose." "Huh! Maybe so. So much settin' wears out overalls, I know that." Primmie interrupted. "I've got it!" she cried, enthusiastically. "I know now!" Galusha started nervously. Primmie's explosiveness was disturbing.
A few teams stood ankle-deep in the mud, tied to the fantastically gnawed pine pillars of the wooden awnings. A man on a load of hay was "jawing" with the attendant of the platform scales, who stood below, pad and pencil in hand. "Hit 'im! hit 'im! Jump off and knock 'im!" suggested a bystander, jovially. Howard knew the voice. "Talk's cheap.
We don't want any rustling scraps started on this range; that's bad medicine always. If he can't produce any hide, he can't start anything but talk and talk's cheap." A few moments later they came tearing up out of the draw, the steer running strong, the three riders still hotly pursuing.
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