human
We're huntin', ma'am, for a place called Cloptons', said Mr. Sanders in a falsetto voice, his hat pulled down over his eyes;
gpt
Why, the Clopton Place is right down the road a piece. What in the world is the matter wi' old Billy? she inquired with real solicitude.
human
Was he wounded in the war, or is he jest up to some of his old-time devilment?
gpt
Well, ma'am, from the looks of the jimmyjon we found by his side, he must 'a' shot hisself in the neck. He complains of cold feet, an' he's got 'em stuck out from under the kiver.
human
Don't you worry about that, said Mrs. Absalom;
gpt
An' he talks in his sleep about a Mrs. Absalom, Mr. Sanders went on,
human
The old villain! exclaimed Mrs. Absalom, with well simulated indignation;
gpt
Well, my life! she exclaimed, raising her hands above her head in a gesture of amazement.
human
Why, that's old Billy, an' him sober; and Franky Bethune, an' him not a primpin'! Well, well! I'd 'a' never believed it ef I hadn't 'a' seed it. I vow I'm beginnin' to believe that war's a real good thing; it's like a revival meetin' for some folks. I'm sorry Ab didn't take his gun an' jine in--maybe he'd 'a' shed his stinginess. But I declare to gracious, I'm glad to see you all; the sight of you is good for the sore eyes. An' Frank tryin' to raise a beard! Well, honey, I'll send you a bottle of bergamot grease to rub on it.