Old Jimmy
Phoebus, a huge man, with a broad face and small forehead, was called
upon for his view.
"It's nothin' but a splurge," said Jimmy; "sooner or later everybody
splurges--shows off! Meshach's jest spilin' with money and he must have
a splurge--two hosses and a nigger. If it ain't a splurge I can't tell
what ails him to save my life."
A general chorus went up of "Dogged if I kin tell to save my life!"
Levin Dennis, the terrapin-buyer, made a wild guess, as follows:
"Meshach, I reckon, is a goin' into the hoss business. He's a ben in
everything else, and has tuk to hosses. If it tain't hosses, I can't
tell to save my life!"
All the lesser intellects of the party executed a low chuckle, spun
around half-way on their boot-heels and back again, and muttered: "Not
to save my life!"
Jack Wonnell, wearing one of the new bell-crowns, and barefooted, and
looking like a vagrant who had tried on a militia grenadier's imposing
bearskin hat, let off this irrelevant _addendum_:
"Ole Milbun's gwyn to see a gal. Fust time a man changes his regler
course wilently, it's a gal. I went into my bell-crowns to git a gal.
Milbun's gwyn get a gal out yonda in forest. If that ain't it, can't
tell to save m' life!"
The smaller fry, not being trained to suggestion, grinned, held their
mouths agape, executed the revolution upon; one heel, and echoed:
"Dogged ef a kin tell t' _save_ m' life!".
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