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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Stop that racket, you gals," called out the mother; and as they came in with suppressed bustle, panting with smothered laughter, she asked, briskly, "Have ye shet up everything 'n' locked th' kitchen door?" "Ya'as, 'm," replied Mandy Calline; "'n' here's th' key on th' mantel-shelf." She then disappeared up the stairs which came down into the sitting-room behind the back door.
"Miss Elsie she tole me for to fotch up dis yere. She tink, Miss Elsie do, dat p'raps you'd rather eat yo' breakfus up yere dis mornin'." "Yes, so I would, Agnes, though I'm not very hungry. Tell mamma she's very kind, and I'm much obliged." "Ya'as, Miss Zoe," and Agnes courtesied and withdrew.
"Ya'as, I'd jest es live," she replied, and led the way into the room; he followed, and sat down in rather constrained fashion on the chair nearest the door, deposited his hat on the floor beside him, took from his pocket and unfolded with a flirt an immense bandanna handkerchief, highly redolent of cheap cologne, and proceeded to mop his face with it. "It's ruther warm," he observed.
Do you want to come with me?" "That's about it". "But your foot's sick, you fool". "You'll carry me in your awms, as a father beareth his children...." "You are cool! What are you in for?" "Murder, my son-red, grim, gory murder!" "Guilty?" "Guilty, ya'as. What do you think?" "Then you may go to hell". "'Ell is it? I'm there: and if I linger longer loo in it, you linger, too, swelp me Gawd!"
"Ya'as, Zekle," she said, shyly. "Whoopee! I feel like I'd like ter jump up 'n' knock my heels tergether 'n' yell!" "Yer'd better try it er spell." she said, smiling at him shyly, "'n' jest see how soon ye'd ha' th' hull fambly er-rushin' in ter see what was the matter."
Come, Ann Elisabeth, go ter scrapin' up, 'n', Mandy Calline, pour up th' dish-water." "Ya'as, yer'd better make er hurry," squeaked "Little Jim," from his perch in the window, "fer Mandy Calline's spectin' her beau ter-night." "Ye'd best shet up yer clatter, Jim, lest ye know what yer talkin' erbout," retorted Mandy Calline, with a pout, making a dash at him with the dish-cloth.
"Sa-ay, mister," interrupted the giant Jerry Simpson from the load of logs. "D'you say Senory Jemimy?" "Why, yes. Señora means madame, or " "Ya'as, I know what it means. Jemimy, mister, ain't no senory, nor no madame. Jemimy's my old Kentucky rifle, mister.
"Golly, boss!" added the porter, "Ah jes' 'bleeged tun say sumpin', an Ah tells 'em de dinin' kyar'll sho'ly obertake us fo' six-thirty. Ya'as, indeedy. An' den, dar's dat lady up dar wid de sour-vinegary sort o' face. Ah jes' heard her say she'd be fo'ced tuh eat her back-comb if she didn't have her lunch pu'ty soon.
He assumed a brave front, and with hands thrust in his pantaloons pockets, came up, whistling softly. "Good-mornin', Zekle," greeted Father Tyler, rising from his stooping position. "Good-mornin', Mr. Tyler. Fine mornin'." "Ya'as; but I'm erfeared we're goin' ter hev rain in er day er two. I feel ruther rheumaticky this mornin', er mighty shore sign that rain ain't fur off.
'Pears like Thaney's goin' ter look fer it with eyes wide open." "Malviny, ye'll have ter toe up my knittin' fer me, Monday; I've got it down ter th' narrerin', 'n' I can't do no more," came softly from gra'mammy's corner. "Ya'as, mother, I will; I could ha' toed it up this evenin' es well es not, tho' ef I had, ye'd ha' started ernuther, 'n' ye'd need ter rest; ye're allers knittin'."
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