human
What's the matter?
gpt
She Codago's wife, softly replied a Mexican.
human
They fight in Chihuahua--he run away--she follow. She come here now--this minute--she fall on Codago--she say something, we know not--he scream an' run.
gpt
He's a low-lived scoundrel! said Chagres Charley, between his teeth.
human
Ef _my_ wife thort enough of me to follow me to the diggin's, I wouldn't do much runnin' away. He's a reg'lar black-hearted, white-livered--
gpt
Sh--h--h! whispered Nappy, the Frenchman.
human
The lady is recovering, and she may have a heart.
gpt
low wailed the woman.
human
What's she a-sayin'?
gpt
She talk about little boy lost,
human
An' her husband gone, too, poor woman! said Chagres Charley, in the most sympathizing tones ever heard at Flatfoot Bar.
gpt
But a doctor'd be more good to her jes' now than forty sich husbands as her'n. Where's the nearest doctor, fellers?
human
Up to Dutch Hill, said Texas;
gpt
Them Greasers hain't never got nothin', said Mississip, suddenly;
human
I!
gpt
The blue sky is enough good to cover man when woman needs blankets.