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Wallie was now in the doorway and he could make out innumerable dark shapes browsing contentedly in his grain-field. "What'll we do?" he asked, despairingly. "Do?" replied Pinkey, savagely, tugging at his boot straps. "I'll send one whur the dogs won't bite him with every ca'tridge. We'll run a thousand dollars' worth of taller off the rest of 'em.
Both saddle an' bridle hed been washed away: so I made the rope into a sort o' halter, an' mounted her bare-backed. "Jest then I begun to think whur I wur agoin'. The hul country appeared to be under water: an' the nearest neighbour I hed lived acrosst the parairy ten miles off. I knew that his shanty sot on high ground, but how wur I to get thur?
"Whoy," said he, vaguely, "if 'tis all o' that to thee, I take it back." Nick rose, and Hodge scrambled clumsily to his feet. "I'll na go wi' thee," said he, sulkily; "I will na go whur I be whupped." Nick turned on his heel without a word, and started on. "An' what's more," bawled Hodge after him, "thy Muster Wully Shaxper be-eth an old gray goose, an' boo to he, says I!"
"Say, Mikky," said Sam shyly, grasping Michael's hand convulsively, "me an' Lizzie sort o' made it up as how we'd get tied, an' we thought we'd do it now whiles everybody's at it, an' things is all fixed Lizzie she wanted me to ask you ef you 'sposed she'd mind, ef we'uns stood thur on the verandy whur yous did, arter you was gone?"
"Noa," drawled the carpenter; "Muster Bubbage beant here; doan't want un, nuther nuvver do moind a's owen business always jawin' volks. A beant here, an' doan't want un, nuther." Nick's heart went down. "And where is he?" "Who? Muster Bubbage? Whoy, a be-eth out to Zhoreditch, a-playin' at t' theater." "And where may Shoreditch be?" "Whur be Zhoreditch?" gaped the workman, vacantly.
Well, so thishere young li'l Dills settin' there puffin' an' blowin' his ches' out and in, an' feelin' all nice 'cause it about the firs' time this livin' summer he catch you' Aunt Julia alone to hisse'f fer while an' all time the house dess fillin' up, an' draf' blowin' straight at you' grampaw whur he settin' in his liberry.
After a few minutes spent in this silent entreaty, the oracle seemed to have sent forth its response; and Rube, returning the stopper to its place, came walking forward to the chief. "Billee's right, cap. If them Injuns must be fit, it's got to be did whur thur's rocks or timmer. They'd whip us to shucks on the paraira. That's settled. If so be, we can do it as easy as fallin' off a log.
"Plaise ye, worshipful masters," he said, being feared of the gateway, "carn 'e tull whur our Jan Ridd be?" "Hyur a be, ees fai, Jan Ridd," answered a sharp little chap, making game of John Fry's language. "Zhow un up, then," says John Fry poking his whip through the bars at us; "Zhow un up, and putt un aowt."
"I took out naturalization papers myself," replied the Major good-humoredly. "My name is Prouty Stephen Douglas Prouty. You'll prob'ly hear of me if you stay in the country. The fact is, I'm thinkin' of startin' a town and namin' it Prouty." "Shoo you don't say so!" In polite inquiry, "Whur?" "Thur!" Mr. Teeters looked a little blank as he stared at the town site indicated.
Leonidas Conway my daughters work in the mill by the side of that poor trash from the mountains? I'll see you damned first." He sat down he bowed his head in his hands. A glinty look came into his eyes. Jud drew his chair up closer: "But jes' think a minute you're sold out you've got no whur to go, you've wuck'd yo'self down tryin' to save the farm. We've all got to wuck these days.
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