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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Yev hed a long ride, Josh," said he, leaning towards the table and clutching hold of the bottle: "try a taste o' this hyur rot-gut 'taint the daintiest o' drink to offer a man so genteelly dressed as you air this morning; but thur's wuss licker in these hyur back'oods, I reckun. Will ye mix? Thur's water in the jug thar." "No water for me," was the laconic reply. "Yur right 'bout that.
That's what this crowd wants to know! Now yev opened down to bed-rock, we'll git English Sam from Sonora, an' git up the tallest kind uv a rasslin' match." "Not unless English Sam meddles with my business, you won't," replied the deacon, quickly. "I've got enough to do fightin' speretual foes." "Oh," said Boston Ben, "we'll manage it so the church folks needn't think 'twas a set-up job.
"Mary," said Sam, "I wish ter God I could die fur yer. The children " "It's them I want to talk about, Sam," replied his wife. 'An' I wish they could die with me, rather'n hev 'em liv ez I've hed to. Not that you ain't been a kind husband to me, for you hev. Whenever I wanted meat yev got it, somehow; an' when yev been ugly drunk, yev kep' away from the house.
"It's jest this, Sam," replied the woman: "Yer tuk me, tellin' me ye'd love me an' honor me an' pertect me. You mean to say, now, yev done it? I'm a-dyin', Sam I hain't got no favors to ask of nobody, an' I'm tellin' the truth, not knowin' what word'll be my last." "Then tell a feller where the killin' came in, Mary, for heaven's sake," said the unhappy Sam.
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