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Updated: May 6, 2025
The little boys is called caddies; but Clarence Heaney that tol' me all this he belongs to th' Foorth Wa-ard Goluf an' McKinley Club said what th' little boys calls th' players'd not be fit f'r to repeat. "Well, whin ye dhrive up to th' tea grounds" "Th' what?" demanded Mr. Hennessy. "Th' tea grounds, that's like th' homeplate in base-ball or ordherin' a piece iv chalk in a game iv spoil five.
So I rode over there one day lookin' up company, so t' speak and there wa'n't no house there. I spent all one Sunday lookin' for it. Then I spoke to Jim Geary about it. He laughed an' got a little white about th' gills, an' he said he guessed I'd have to look a good while before I found it. He said that there shack was an ole joke." "Why what " "Well, this here is th' story he tol' me.
The first thing she did was to put up her hand to her temple, where she felt the warm blood. She gave him one look of profound sorrow. "Oh, Art dear," she exclaimed, "Art dear " her voice failed her, but the tears flowed in torrents down her cheeks. "Margaret," said he, "you needn't spake to me that way. You know any how I'm damned damned lol de rol lol tol de rol lol! ha, ha, ha!
Lee had more strength, but Bark had more science, an' laid Lee out col'. Then Bark went home an' tol' the ole man, who had a mortgage on the ho-tel, an' he sol' Lee up. I hear he's barberin' or somethin' er that sort up to Atlanta, an' the hotel's run by another man. There's Fetters comin' in now."
She clasped her hands in an ecstasy of unrestrained delight. "Beell Heeks? Oh, señor, I know Beell Heeks. He vas ver' nice fellow, too but no so pretty like you; he old man an' swear Holy Mother, how he swear! He tol' me once come out any time an' see hees mine. I not know vere it vas before. Maybe de angels show me. You vas vat Beell call Stutter Brown, I tink maybe?
I dunno rightly, but dey all done tol' me dat wuz so. "'Nego, said I, 'step up here to your boss' desk and write your name, just like you do when I give you credit for a bale of cotton. Nego he steps up and he makes a mark, and a mighty poor mark at that. 'You can go, I said to him.
'Did you see him, Uncle Eb? I remember asking. 'Yes, he answered, whittling in the dark. 'I saw him when I went out for the water an' it was he tol' me they were after us. He took a look at the sky after a while, and, remarking that he guessed they couldn't see his smoke now, began to kindle the fire.
"Why, one time in Minnesota, they was a feller, he tol' me, min' yuh, things 't he wouldn't tell his own mthrrr!" Mike, poor man, could not say mother at all. He just buzzed with his tongue and let it go at that. But Murphy was used to his peculiarities and guessed what he meant. "An' there's where he showed respick fer the auld lady," he commended drily, and winked at his cup of coffee.
When hit comes to handlin' a right peert gal, Jeb Somers air about the porest man on Fryin' Pan, I reckon; an' Polly Ann Sturgill have got the vineg'rest tongue on Cutshin or any other crick. So the boys over on Fryin' Pan made it up to git 'em together. An' he tol' Polly Ann that Jeb was ravin' crazy 'bout her.
"Ah done tol' you-all Ah'm right," Dirty Dan heard one of them say. "Ha!" thought Dirty Dan. "A dirrty black naygur! I can tell be the v'ice of him." One of his companions grunted, and another said, in accents which the astute Mr. O'Leary correctly judged to be those of a foreigner of some sort: "All right. W'en he's come out, we jumpa right here. Wha's matter, eh?" "Suits me," the negro replied.
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