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Updated: May 21, 2025
If they ketch 'im 'e'll get six months 'ard." "Then what's 'e been doin' it for? I down't see nothink in it if it down't py.". "Cause he believes in it, thet's why! What do you think, sir?" "I think the man has come by a just fall," said John. "God will never use him again, having brought him to shame." "Must hev been a wrong un certingly," said the man over the fire.
Presently Johnny again: "Mar sez that everywhere else but yer everybody gives things to everybody Chrismiss, and then she jist waded inter you. She sez thar's a man they call Sandy Claws, not a white man, you know, but a kind o' Chinemin, comes down the chimbley night afore Chrismiss and gives things to chillern, boys like me. Puts 'em in their butes! Thet's what she tried to play upon me.
He's daid, an' people says thet Pat is a-goin' to lay thet killin' onto Gene. I reckon thet's jest talk, though Pat is mean enough to do it, if he hed the nerve. Anyway, if he was in El Cajon he kept mighty much to hisself. Gene walked up an' down, up an' down, all day an' night, lookin' fer Pat. But he didn't find him. An', of course, he kept gettin' drunker. He jest got plumb bad.
'Well, it don't look like my old one, do it? said Liza. 'Where did yer git it? asked another friend, rather enviously. 'Picked it up in the street, of course, scornfully answered Liza. 'I believe it's the same one as I saw in the pawnbroker's dahn the road, said one of the men, to tease her. 'Thet's it; but wot was you doin' in there? Pledgin' yer shirt, or was it yer trousers?
I was thet dahn in the dumps well, I shouldn't 'ave cared if I'd been at the bottom of the river, an' thet's the truth. 'You don't sy so, replied her affectionate mother. 'Yus, I do, an' I mean it too, but I don't feel like thet now. You're right, mother, when you're in trouble there's nothin' like a bit of spirits.
"Link, do you know the roads, the trails the desert between here and Agua Prieta?" she asked. "Thet's sure my old stampin'-ground. An' I know Sonora, too." "We must reach Agua Prieta before sunset long before, so if Stewart is in some near-by camp we can get to it in in time." "Miss Majesty, it ain't possible!" he exclaimed. "Stillwell's crazy to say thet."
The Powers of Evil, he further remarked, should contend against him vainly. All this delivered with a terseness and vigor lost in this necessary translation. "In course. Certainly. Thet's it," said the Old Man with a sympathetic frown. "Thar's no trouble about THET. It's my own house, built every stick on it myself. Don't you be afeard o' her, boys.
He wuz a reckless, drinkin', high-tempered, rough feller; but, Lordee! how brave, when it come to fightin'! He wuzn't feared o' old Nick hisse'f or eny uv his imps." "What was his wife's name?" "Blest ef I kin re-collect, stranger. It's twenty-odd year ago, an' you see, I " "Was it Mary?" "No, I don't think thet wuz it." "Was it Sarah?" "Yes, thet's it. Sarah Sarah Jane, thet's it.
He saw beside the big track a faint imprint of Lucy's small foot. That was the last sign of her progress and it told a story. "Bostil, thet ain't Slone's track," said Holley, ringingly. "Sure it ain't. Thet's the track of a big man," replied Bostil. The other riders, circling round with bent heads, all said one way or another that Slone could not have made the trail.
It's you're the sinner ollers, she's the saint; Whot's good's all English, all thet isn't, ain't. She is all thet's honest, honnable, an' fair. An' when the vartoos died they made her heir." This was written just after President Cleveland's pronunciamento in regard to Venezuela, and thus long before the outbreak of the war with Spain.
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