Page:Southern Life in Southern Literature.djvu/430

412 Is dis heah me, or not me? Or is de debbil got me? Wuz dat a cannon shot me? Hab I laid heah more n a week? Dat mule do kick amazin! De beast wuz sp iled in raisin But now I spect he s grazin On de oder side de creek.

SELLING A DOG

H yar, Pot-liquor! What you at? You heah me callin you? H yar, sah! Come an tell dis little gemmen howdy-do! Dar, sah, ain t dat puppy, jes as fat as he kin roll? Maybe you won't b liebe it, but he s only six mon s ol! Coon dog? Lord! young marster, he s jes at em all de while / b liebe dat he kin smell a coon fur half a mile. I don like to sell him, fur he s wuf his weight in goP; If you did n t want him, sah, he nebber should be sol. If you takes him off wid you, I'll feel like I wuz lost. He s de bes young fightin dog I ebber come acrost. Jes look at dem eyes, young marster; what a sabbage face! He won't let no stranger nigger come about de place. You know Henry Wilson s Bob, dat whipped your fader s Dan? Pot-liquor jes chucked dat dog so bad he could n t stan! Well, sah, if you wants him, now I'll tell you what I'll do, You kin hab him fur a dollar, seein s how it s you.