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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"The Boss of Little Arcady"

Ah sho'ly go'n' a'
repoht mahse'f to um ve'y honably when they pass me by yehafteh. Yo'
don't gaiss they made a errah, Mahstah Majah?"
He searched my face with a sudden hope:--
"Yo' don't reckon they git a idy them funichas an' home-fixin's ain't
been paid foh in th' fust place?"
I took the packet from his hands and glanced over it.
"No, these seem to be all right, Clem--only freight is charged for. But
you must remember Virginia is a long way off."
"Yes, seh--it ain't neveh raghtly come upon me befoh."
"And freights are high, of course?"
"Yes, seh, th' freight p'fession does look lahk it ort a' be maghty
gainful. Ah gaiss them engineahs go'n' a' do raght well in it, with
evabody movin' 'round considable."
"Well, how many more loads do you expect?"
"Well, seh, Ah don't raghtly know. Ah tell that drivah yestaday Ah
already got a gret abundance to mek evabody comf'table, an' a little bit
oveh, but he jes' sais, 'Oh, tha's all raght,' an' so fothe, an' he
still is _a-bringin_' it. Lohks ve'y strongly lahk he ain't go'n' a'
stop at _mah_ implications. Mahstah Majah, maght happen lahk he'd ack
mo' reasonin' ef yo' was t' have a good long talk with him.


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