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"Well, it don't do ter tell you women how much we thinks ob you. It sets you up too much. Ole Gundover's overseer war my marster, an' he used ter lib in dis bery house. I'se fixed it up sence I'se got it. Now I'se better off dan he is, 'cause he tuck to drink, an' all his frens is gone, an' he's in de pore-house." Just then Linda came to the door with her baskets.
"Bless me," said Pete, dropping his pen, and rubbing his hands in ravishing contemplation of his own fiction; "the next thing we hear she'll be riding in her carriage and' pair." He was sobbing a little, for all that, in a low, smothered way, but he could not deny himself one word more "luv to all enquirin frens and bess respecs to the Dempster if im not forgot at him."
But as the volley of blows and threats was renewed with access of violence, Keziah exclaimed: "Ef they hain't yeur frens they be mine, an I hain't gonter see em kep aout in the cold no longer fer nobuddy," and she went to the door and took hold of the bar. "Don't you do it," gasped Mrs. Edwards springing forward to arrest her.
He was as good as a drum. And, when the hymn was over, he started to testify. "My frens!" he said, "I was once black as der coals in der mined! I was once black as der ink in der ocean of sin! But now thank an' bless the Lord! I am whiter dan der dribben snow!" Tom Hall sat down on the edge of the veranda and leaned his head against a post and cried.
'Kind frens, said Philpot, removing his cap and addressing the crowd, 'we're hall honest British workin' men, but we've been hout of work for the last twenty years on account of foreign competition and over-production. We don't come hout 'ere because we're too lazy to work; it's because we can't get a job.
Frens and fam'ly hab gathered 'roun' de 'flicted one, an' hab paid dar respect ter her usefulness an' value, an' hab shown her becomin' sympathy. Her own fam'ly, as is also becomin', hab been first ter ease her up accordin', first, to the law of primigeneshureship. I know dat dis is a long word, but long words of'en mean a heap, an' dat's why dey are so long.
I had sum hosses confisticated in the same way onct, but the confisticaters air now poundin stun in the States Prison in Injinnapylus." "Wall, wall Mister Ward, you air at liberty to depart; you air friendly to the South, I know. Even now we hav many frens in the North, who sympathize with us, and won't mingle with this fight." "J. Davis, there's your grate mistaik.
America, oh my onhappy country! thou hast not got no Tower! It's a sweet Boon." The gates was opened after awhile, and we all purchist tickets and went into a waitin-room. "My frens," said a pale-faced little man, in black close, "this is a sad day." "Inasmuch as to how?" I said. "I mean it is sad to think that so many peple have been killed within these gloomy walls.
While Jim was absent, the bride's health was drunk in a glass of lemonade, and when he returned, his own health was proposed, and Jim seemed to feel that something was expected of him. "My good frens," said he, "I'm much obleeged to ye. Ye couldn't 'a' treated me better if I'd 'a' been the president of this country.
Shortly after these days Artemus Ward, the author who almost vied with Shakespeare in Lincoln's affections, relates how the confiscation of his show in the South led him to have an interview with Jefferson Davis. "Even now," said Davis, in this pleasant fiction, "we have many frens in the North." "J. Davis," is the reply, "there's your grate mistaik.
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