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Snuffy stared at the dory blankly until it was lost in the gloom. "Ef that don't beat all!" he ejaculated. "I wonder if Si is in his right senses? He's been actin' quar right along, and now to start off, Lord knows whar, at this hour o' night! I really don't believe it's safe to stay here alone with him." Snuffy shook his unkempt head dubiously. Young Si rowed steadily out over the dark waves.
Ole Miss didn't know nuffin', an' Miss Dory was a little quar, an' dis po' chile is like 'em," was Jake's reply, which brought a deep flush to Eloise's face. She had felt her cheeks burning all the time she had been looking round on her mother's home, wondering what Jack would think of it.
She started, as usual, about daybreak, over to her cousin, Molly Dugan's, fer a bucket o' fresh milk, an' we never missed 'er until it was time she was back, an' then we went all the way to Dugan's before we found out she hadn't been thar at all. Then her ma tuck up a quar notion, an' helt to it like a leech fer a long time.
Edith's only comment was, "He is 'quar, Hannibal, as you said." Wearied with the long day's work, she soon found welcome and dreamless rest.
Hannibal saw that he need waste no more ammunition on Arden, so he pulled out the prescriptions, and said: "The doctor guv me dese, but, Lor bress you, my ole jints is stiff, and I'd be a week in gittin' down and back from de willage." "That's enough," interrupted Arden. "You shall have the medicines in half an hour;" and he kept his word. "He is quar," muttered Hannibal, looking after him.
"Deer Sir: "Glory to God. I'se done sung all day for his mussy in lettin' me heer from lil Miss Dory onc't mo' an' 'noin' she ain't ded as I feared she was. Mas'r Minister Mason, who done 'tended the funeral of t'other Miss Dory done tole me how she's livin' with you, an' a lil off in her mind. The lam'! What happened her, I wonder? Her granny, ole Miss Lucy, was quar. All the Harrises was quar.
Dat's like de Harrises, dey's mighty quar, stickin' to dar word till they die like that Cassy-by-anker on de burnin' ship. Glory to God, glory! I mus' shout, I mus' hurrah. Glory!" He went careering round the room like one mad, knocking over a chair, waking up Amy, and bringing her to the scene of action.
"Well, you see, Mis' Slogan, she's tuck a most unaccountable dislike to Lizzie, an' a pusson like well, some do think her trouble has sorter turned 'er brain, an' the's no rail tellin' what quar notion may strike 'er." "Do you think so, Mis' Lithicum?" Mrs. Slogan retained the big smooth shuttle in her hand and eyed the speaker anxiously, her eyelids quivering. "To be downright plain, yes, I do.
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