human
Nancy, she's the dandiest piece o' iron that wuz ever twisted inter the shape of a weepon. Old 'Speakeasy's her name! She's got the softest voice that ever whispered death to a varmint or an Injun--hit ain't much louder'n the crack of a whip, but, man alive, when she talks she says somethin'. 'Kerpeow!' she whispers soft an' low! She's got a voice like yourn, Nancy--kinder sighs when she speaks----
gpt
Well, the wife broke in with a shake of her dark head,
human
I reckon so,
gpt
Then it's time for school.