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"This yer bully, Judge," Jimmy said coolly, "started to take Prencess Anne the fust day, an' ole Meshach's Samson knocked him a sprawlin', an' Meshach hisself finished him.
You go off for tarrapin, an' taters, an' oysters, an' peddles 'em aroun' Prencess Anne, an' then somebody pulls you in the grog-shops an' away goes your money, an' your mother ain't got no tea and coffee." "Jack," said Levin, abruptly, "do you believe in ghosts?" "I don't know, Levin. If I saw one maybe I would, but I'm too trashy for ghosts to see me."
"Samson," said Jimmy Phoebus, as soon as Hulda disappeared, "git ready to be a first-class liar; I want you to take up Patty Cannon's offer." "An' leave you yer alone, Jimmy? I can't do it." "Don't be a fool, Samson. Ironed here, we can't help nobody. Make your way to Seaford and Georgetown, and go round the Cypress Swamp to Prencess Anne.
"Let him sleep," Joe Johnson spoke; "yer, Wonnell, I give you tray of his strangers to take to his mommy," handing out three gold pieces. "Don't you forgit it! Yer's a syebuck fur you," giving Jack a sixpence. "You an' me will part company at Prencess Anne."
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