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? ? ? ? "An' look at that-air ladder made out'n rags, Sister Hotchkiss," says old Mrs. Damrell, "what in the name o' goodness could he ever want of-"

? ? ? ? "The very words I was a-sayin' no longer ago th'n this minute to Sister Utterback, 'n' she'll tell you so herself. Sh-she, look at that-air rag ladder, sh-she; 'n' s'I, yes, look at it, s'I- what could he a wanted of it, s'I. Sh-she, Sister Hotchkiss, sh-she-"

? ? ? ? "But how in the nation'd they ever git that grindstone in there, anyway? 'n' who dug that-air hole? 'n' who-"

? ? ? ? "My very words, Brer Penrod! I was a-sayin'- pass that air sasser o' m'lasses, won't ye?- I was a-sayin' to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute, how did they git that grindstone in there, s'I. Without help, mind you- 'thout help! Thar's wher' 'tis. Don't tell me, s'I; there wuz help, s'I; 'n' ther' wuz a plenty help, too, s'I; ther's ben a dozen a-helpin' that nigger, 'n' I lay I'd skin every last nigger on this place, but I'd find out who done it, s'I; 'n' moreover, s'I-"

? ? ? ? "A dozen says you!- forty couldn't a done everything that's been done.


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