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Updated: June 11, 2025
"I tell you so, Massa Easy," said Mesty: "d n rascals, they forget they come down fire musket at us every day: by all de powers, Mesty not forget it." "Ship ahoy!" cried one of the men on shore. "What do you want?" replied Jack. "Have pity on us, sir mercy!" exclaimed the other men, "we will return to our duty." "Debble doubt 'em!" "What shall I say, Mesty?"
'Do yo' mean Black Bart Hawley? 'Dat's the man, where is he? 'Dealin' faro fo' Mike Kenna in Topeka a week ago friend ob yours? 'Dat's none ob yo' damned business, snorted de ol' gin'ral, givin' his hoss de spur. Sho', Massa Jack, he nebber knowed he was talkin' ter dat same Hawley, an' dat black debble jest laughed as he rode off." "When was all this, Neb?"
I'll meet yo' whar yo' say, but ef I can git hol' ob some papers dat's missin' I'll take dat grin off yo' face. De odder one laughed, an' de ol' gin'ral started fo' ter ride away, den he pull up he's hoss, an' look back. 'Yo' sorter herd wid dat kind ob cattle, Bartlett, he say, sharp like, 'maybe yo' know a gambler roun' yere called Hawley? De black debble nebber eben lose he's grin.
The distance is not so great, and we shall be certain he will not get any of your round-head notions of religion, too, Col. 'Brom, you Dutch are not altogether free from these distressing follies. "Debble a pit!" growled the Colonel, through his pipe; for no devotee of liberalism and latitudinarianisrn in religion could be more averse to extra-piety than he.
Not until then did he observe that a tall, thin stranger stood beside him; and that he was fiddling too, composing a second to Joost's air, as if he could read his thought before he put it into execution on the strings. Joost paused, and the stranger did likewise. "Where de debble did you come frum?" asked the first. The other smiled. "And how did you come to know dat music?" Joost pursued.
'Hope, hell! he say, 'it's Phyllis, an' I'll put her before any jury yo're mind to get oh, I've got yo' nailed, Waite, dis time." "Was that all?" "De ol' gin'ral he didn't seem ter know what ter say; he done set dar lookin' off ober de prairie like he was clar flumegasted. He sho' did look like dat black debble hed hit him mighty hard.
Pomp held aloof. "She'll whip me," he said, shaking his head. "She's an old debble." "Oh, you you sarpint!" ejaculated the old lady, almost speechless with indignation. "You can run away as soon as she gets out," suggested Sam. Pomp advanced slowly and warily, rolling his eyes in indecision. "Jest catch hold of my hands, both on ye," said Mrs. Payson, "an' I'll give a jump."
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