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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Pitch your bag up, cowboy, an' climb aboard," he said. "An' what might your handle be?" "Panhandle Smith," replied Pan nonchalantly, "late of Sycamore Bend." "Wal, now, whar'd I hear thet name? I got a plumb good memory fer names an' faces. 'Pears I heerd thet name in Cheyenne, last summer.... I got it.
"Not more'n three hunder' yards out She'd break up soon, 'f there was no one to hender. Wot a show we'd hev!" "I reckon," growled the shorter man. "'S your name Peter?" "Ay. I belong yer. Allers lived 'bout high-water mark. Whar'd ye come from?" The only answer was a sharp and excited exclamation.
Cato had a mortal horror of touching any creature that was dead, but more than once he had wished that the corpses were placed in the ground, although he had not the courage to put them there. He showed no reluctance now to the performance of his portion of the task. "You know how to dig, I presume?" asked the Lieutenant. "Yis, I offin dug wid dis berry same spade. Whar'd you want thar graves?"
"Whar'd you git dinner, Nick?" she inquired suddenly. "At the judge's." "What did they have?" demanded Jubal from the hall, ceasing the clatter of the churn. "Golly! Wouldn't I like a bite of something!" "I shouldn't mind some strange cookin', myself," said Marthy Burr, shaking her head at one of the children who had come into the kitchen with muddy feet.
"I want something dainty, you know; something coy, and at the same time just a wee bit saucy that might look well for evening wear." Not in the Army, After All A Methodist negro exhorter shouted: "Come up en jine de army ob de Lohd." "Ise done jined," replied one of the congregation. "Whar'd yoh jine?" asked the exhorter. "In de Baptis' Chu'ch."
"Time they wrote some of the business down and you couldn't read it, whar'd you be, and whar'd our money be?" The moving speck on the road appeared at this time to be the figure of a tall man, walking unsteadily, reeling from side to side of the road, yet approaching the village.
"Whar's Meshech Little, ter night?" inquired Israel Goodrich, not so much interested as the younger men in the points of young women. "He's been drunk all day," said Obadiah, who always knew everything that was going on. "Whar'd he git the money?" asked some one. "Meshech don' need no money tew git drunk," said Abner.
"High! whar'd you come from, George? What did you let 'em cotch you fur?" "Because I could not prevent it," returned he, with a faint smile. "Well, now, if't had been dis pusson, you see, dey'd 've had some trouble." "How is it that you are here, then?" "Well, dat question requires considerable explanation.
Price's ambition soared no higher, and he had made no secret of it. "Wal! Whar'd you hear that, Jethro?" "H-heerd it round some. D-Democrat hain't you Democrat?" "Always callate to be." "J-Jacksonian Democrat?" "Guess I be." Silence for a while, that Mr. Price may feel the gavel in his hand, which he does. "Know somewhat about Jacksonian principles, don't ye know somewhat?" "Callate to," says Mr.
"Hello thar, pardner!" he exclaimed, reining his mare in abruptly. "Whar'd you drop down from?" "Why howdy do, Mr. Johnson!" answered Hardy, shaking hands, "I'm glad to see you again. Jeff told me he was going down to your ranch to-morrow and I looked to see you then." Bill Johnson allowed this polite speech to pass over his shoulder without response.
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