Uncle Josh's Punkin Centre Stories by Cal Stewart
page 19 of 114 (16%)
page 19 of 114 (16%)
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he jist looked fer all the world like a picter
on Aunt Nancy Smith's tea cups. I wuz sort of sot back fer a minnit, coz 'I sed to myself--I don't spose this durned critter can talk English; but seein' as how I'm in here, I might as well find out. So I told him I'd like to git him to do some washin' fer me, and he commenced a talkin' some outlandish lingo, sounded to me like cider runnin' out of a jug, somethin' like--ung tong oowong fang kai moi oo ung we, velly good washee. Wall I understood the last of it and jist took his word fer the rest, so I giv him my clothes and he giv me a little yeller ticket that he painted with a brush what he had, and I'll jist bet a yoke of steers agin the holler in a log, that no livin' mortal man could read that ticket; it looked like a fly had fell into the ink bottle and then crawled over the paper. Wall I showed it to a gentleman what was a standin' thar when I cum out, and I sed to him--mister, what in thunder is this here thing, and he sed "Wall sir that's a sort of a lotery ticket; every time you leave your clothes thar to have them washed you git one of them tickets, and then you have a chance to draw a prize of some kind." So I sed--wall now I want to know, how much is the blamed thing wuth, and he sed "I spose bout ten cents," and I told him if he |
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