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Dar she sets," continued the old man, gazing at it reflectively, "dar she sets dez ez natchul ez er ambertype, an' yit whar's de man w'at kin tell w'at kinder confab she's a gwineter carry on w'en dat corn-cob is snatched outen 'er mouf? Dat jug is mighty seetful, mon." "Well, it don't deceive any of us up here," remarked the agricultural editor, dryly. "We've seen jugs before."
As the same ideas have been sometimes advanced under more pretentious circumstances, they may be worthy of record. "Look at 'em holdin' the finest grazin' land that ever lay outer doors? Whar's the papers for it? Was it grants? Mighty fine grants, most of 'em made arter the 'Merrikans got possession. More fools the 'Merrikans for lettin' 'em hold 'em. Wat paid for 'em? 'Merrikan blood and money.
"Feel pooty good, don't yew?" demanded Samuel, but with less severity. "A leetle soft, a leetle soft," muttered the other. "Gimme my cane. Thar, ef one o' them women comes in the door I'll I'll " Abraham raised his stick and shook it at the innocent air. "Whar's my pipe? Mis' Homan, she went an' hid it last week."
We used ter t'ink, 'bout Red Wing, dat dar wa'n't nary man dat ebber cast a shadder good 'nough fer Miss Mollie." "And so there isn't," said Hesden, laughing, "But we can't stand here and talk all day. Where are you from?" "Whar's I frum?
"Now, then, you tarnal Greaser," exclaimed Dick, "your jig's danced, an' you must settle with the fiddler. If I only had you out on the prairie, I'd larn you a few things I reckon you never heern tell on. Come here, you keerless feller, an' tell me if you 'member what I said to you yesterday! Whar's Frank?"
"I was thinkin' o' that white crittur you got yarnin' about when you come around our shanty. Jest whar's that Moosefoot Reserve, an' an' the bit o' forest whar her lodge is located? Maybe I'd fancy to know. I 'lows I was kind o' struck on that yarn." The trader saw the eager face, and the excitement in the eyes which looked into his, and, in a moment, his merry mood died out.
From the kitchen his mother called them to breakfast. "Whar's Steve?" asked the boy. The mother gave the same answer as had Mavis, but she looked anxious and worried. "Mavis is a-goin' back to the mountains with me," said the boy, and the girl looked up in defiant expectation, but the mother did not even look around from the stove. "Mebbe yo' pap won't let ye," she said quietly.
Moreover, it's my opeenion that if ye hadna been starvin' ye wadna have been here 'e noo, for ye're uncommon teuch. Rin, lassie, an' fetch some breed an' cheese. Whar's Marion an' Is'b'l?" "They went out to seek for Peter," said Jean, as she hastened to obey her uncle's mandate.
"I knows dar's sich a doctor somewhars 'bout, but just whars I cante say, an' he's a poor doctor fur the likes o' you, don't have noffen to do with him, nohow." "A poor doctor!" exclaimed the stranger. "Why, I understood he was the greatest doctor in the world; and I've come all the way from the Wabash country to see him." "Warbash! whar's dat?
Matheus is a member of the office board of the Quinn Memorial A.M.E. He has been an elder of that church for many years and also trustee and treasure. He frequently serves on the jury. He is well known and highly respected in the community. Folklore: Ex-Slaves Meigs County, District Three MR. WILLIAM NELSON Aged 88 "Whar's I bawned?
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