human
Land sakes, child, you'll never get over bein' a baby, will ye?
gpt
Nor you, neither, Eliza. Ef we didn't have company here you'd be crawlin' under the table or something. She ain't afraid of wild cats or rattlesnakes or Injins or even spiders, he went on, addressing Gwynne,
human
My goodness, Phin Striker, broke in his wife, a new note of alarm in her voice,
gpt
I do hope them chickens an' turkeys have got sense enough to get under something in this downpour. If they ain't, the whole kit an' boodle of 'em will be drownded, sure as--
human
I never yet see a hen that liked water, interrupted Phineas.
gpt
Er a turkey either. Don't you worry about 'em. You better worry about that side-meat you're fryin'. Ef my nose is what it ort to be, I'd say that piece o' meat was bein' burnt to death,--an' that's a lot wuss than bein' drownded. They say drowndin' is the easiest death--
human
You men clear out o' this kitchen, snapped Eliza.
gpt
Out with ye! You too, Phin Striker. I'll call ye when the table's set. Now, you go an' set over there in the corner, away from the window, deary, where the lightnin' can't git at you, an'--You'll find a comb on the mantel-piece, Mr. Gwynne, an' Phineas will git you a boot-jack out o' the bedroom if that darkey is too weak to pull your boots off for you. Don't any of you go trampin' all over the room with your muddy boots. I've got work enough to do without scrubbin' floors after a pack of--My land! I do believe it's scorched. An' the corn-bread must be--