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Updated: June 18, 2025
If ever you gets to up'ards o' fifty, and feels disposed to go a-marryin' anybody no matter who jist you shut yourself up in your own room, if you've got one, and pison yourself off hand. Hangin's wulgar, so don't you have nothin' to say to that. Pison yourself, Samivel, my boy, pison yourself, and you'll be glad on it arterwards. With these affecting words, Mr.
When dark come, de men folks would hang up a wash pot, bottom up'ards, in de little brush church-house us had, so's it would catch de noise an' de oberseer wouldn' hear us singin' an' shoutin'. Dey didn' min' us meetin' in de day time, but dey thought iffen we stayed up ha'f de night we wouldn' work so hard de nex' day an' dat was de truf. "You should'a seen some of de niggers get 'ligion.
Mighty good squaw once; but heap dead now. "Then Hardrobe an' Bloojacket rides over an' fixes a little flag they've got in their war-bags to a pole which sticks up'ards outen this tomb, flyin' the ensign as Injuns allers does, upside down. "It's six months later, mebby an' it's now the hard luck begins when I hears how Hardrobe weds a dance-hall girl over to Caldwell.
With a screw-jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he'd be lovely." "Not ugly enough," said Tackleton. "Or for a fire-box either," observed Caleb in deep contemplation, "what a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn him heels up'ards for the light; and what a fire-box for a gentleman's mantel-shelf, just as he stands!" "Not half ugly enough," said Tackleton. "Nothing in him at all.
Here's what the law does: The law takes a man worth six thousand dollars and up'ards, and jams him into an old trap of a cabin like this, and lets him go round in clothes that ain't fitten for a hog. They call that govment! A man can't get his rights in a govment like this. Sometimes I've a mighty notion to just leave the country for good and all.
"Don't give me nothin' more strength'nin than riches in mine," said Uncle Peter Henchman, who boasted great wisdom and experience, based mysteriously on the possession of a wooden leg. "I've been in this world up'ards of seventy years, forty-five of it a-walkin' on a wooden leg, and I hain't never seen that poverty was anything but a curse."
With a screw-jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he'd be lovely. 'Not ugly enough, said Tackleton. 'Or for a firebox, either, observed Caleb, in deep contemplation, 'what a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn him heels up'ards for the light; and what a firebox for a gentleman's mantel-shelf, just as he stands! 'Not half ugly enough, said Tackleton. 'Nothing in him at all!
"Dar ain' no use talkin'," Uncle Zack stamped the ground. "I'se been waitin' on de May fam'ly fer up'ards of a hund'ed yeahs, an' dis am de fu'st time any of 'em done 'sult me!" There was a pause while Bip looked at him with wide, serious eyes, and the Colonel from his secluded vantage point silently chuckled. "I didn't mean to insult you, Uncle Zack," the little boy explained.
"I doan't like your thought, Tom," said another staider youth: "it's ill-mirth playing leap-frog over tomb-stones, and poor bravery insulting the dead. Besides, I'm thinking the bad man that's taken from us an't a going up'ards, so it's no use lending him a light. I wish we may all lie in a cooler grave than he does, and not have to go quite so deep down'ard."
Poyser; "and so would anybody else ha' thought as had got their right ends up'ards. But I suppose you must be a Methodist to know what a Methodist 'ull do. It's all guessing what the bats are flying after." "Why, what have we done to you, Dinah, as you must go away from us?" said Mr. Poyser. "It's like breaking your word; for your aunt never had no thought but you'd make this your home."
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