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Updated: June 25, 2025
"Well, he went, didn't he?" Stephen grinned. Malcolm had told him some particulars concerning his university career and its termination. "He went part way," he answered. "Ya-as. Well, you've gone part way, so fur. And now you'll go the rest." "I'd like to know why." "For one reason, because I'm your guardian and I say so." Stephen was furiously angry.
"But there must be some nice girls in Poketown!" cried Janice. "Ya-as I guess there be. But wait till I kin git around an' interduce ye to 'em." This promise, however, offered Janice Day but sorry comfort. If she waited for Aunt Almira to take her about she certainly would die of homesickness!
"I wisht yu'd extricate yore delicate feet from off'n this hyar table, James," humbly requested Lanky Smith, morally backed up by those with him. "Ya-as, they shore is delicate, Mr. Smith," responded Jimmy without moving. "We wants to play draw, Jimmy," explained Pete. "Yore shore welcome to play if yu wants to.
"'Here, yo', 'sclaim Mars' Colby, we'n he see her. 'Yo' come an' show me all dem one-laiged geese. "'Ya-as, Mars', says Sally Alley, an' she haid right off fo' de goose pon'. Dar was de whole flock roostin' erlong de aidge ob de pon' an' all wid one foot drawed up in deir fedders lak' dat goose roostin' out dar in dat woodshed dis bressed minute!
"Who from?" demanded Massey, sticking to his text, and that only. "Young Joe Bodley, of the Lake View Inn." "Joe Bodley! Why, he was abed when them coins was stolen I know that," blurted out the druggist, very much disappointed. "Lem Parraday 'tends bar himself forenoons, for Joe's allus up till past midnight. You know that, Walky." "Ya-as f'r sure," agreed the expressman.
I just came to see you, that's all. Fernando, I hear as how you're goin' t' ther war." "I am, Mr. Winners. I am a young man with no wife or children. My country just now stands in need of young men." "Ya-as, it does, an' I don't come t' blame ye for it, mind ye, I don't blame ye fur it. I'm sometimes tempted to go myself, old as I am." "No, no, Mr. Winners, there is no occasion.
"Simon Peter?" said Blount inquiringly. "Ya-as; Simon Peter Hathaway. And my name's Griggs; Griggs, of the Antelopes, back o' Carnadine if anybody should ask you who give you your pointer on Simon Peter Judas. I don't blacklist no man in the dark, and I've said a heap more to that old ratter's face than I've ever said behind his back.
We are really none of us very religious, I fear, though," and he tried to look serious; "if it had not been for Mr. Lorimer, we should have come to church last Sunday. Mr. Lorimer was, unfortunately, rather indisposed." "Ya-as!" drawled that gentleman, turning from the little window where he had been gathering a rose for his button-hole.
"Well, now," he would say, "you take this year's wheat crop, with about 917,000,000 bushels of wheat harvested, why, that's what's going to win the war! Yes, sirree! No wheat, no winning, that's what I say." "Ya-as, it is!" the city men would scoff. But the queer part of it is that Farmer Ben was right. Minnie got into the habit of using him as a sort of nursemaid.
The tall man knew all about it, and was willing enough to talk. He sat down beside the fire and answered Ruth's questions most cheerfully. "Ya-as, I knowed old man Hatfield," he said. "He's been dead goin' on ten year. That Fred wasn't good to his mother. His half-brothers children of Old Man Hatfield's fust wife is nicer to their marm than Fred was. Oh, ya-as! he was shot by 'Lias, all right.
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