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Didn't he, dat drefful Meshach Milbun, offer Miss Vessy a gole dollar, an' she wouldn' have none of his gole? Dat she did! Virgie, you go git dat hat, chile! Poke it off de rack wid my pot-hook heah. 'Twon't hurt you, gal! I'll sprinkle ye fust wid camomile an' witch-hazel dat I keep up on de chimney-jamb."
There we wuz right in front of the Gole, and I don't believe there wuz a better-lookin' Gole sence the world begun. The minute we left the cars we found ourselves between two lines of wild-lookin' and actin' men, a-tryin' to sell us things we hadn't no need on. What did I want with a cane? or Josiah with a little creepin' beetle? And what did I want with galluses?
For missus is mighty rich, an' don't need us, 'case she's got barrels of meal, an' flour, an' plenty bacon in de smoke-house, da keeps locked up, da say for de Secesh sojers. An' missus had us put a tin trunk of gole an' silver money, an' a big ches' of all her silver plate way up in de lof' few days ago.
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