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Uncle Josh's Punkin Centre Stories by Cal Stewart
page 54 of 114 (47%)
stand much of a gale; and about a hundred
and fifty patent wind mills runnin' all to
onct, and out in the woods somewhar they
had a band a-playin'. I couldn't see 'em
but I could hear 'em; guess some of 'em
wuz a havin' a dance to settle down their
dinner; I couldn't tell whether it was a society
festival or a camp meetin' at feedin'
time. Wall, one feller cum up to me and
commenced talkin' some furrin language I
didn't understand, somethin' about bon-sour,
mon-sour. I jist made up my mind he wuz
one of them bunco fellers, and I wouldn't
talk to him. Then another feller cum up
right smart like and wanted to know if I'd
hav my dinner table de hotel or all over a
card, and I told him if it wuz all the same to
him he could bring me my dinner on a plate.
Wall, he handed me a programme of the
dinner and I et about half way down it and
drank a bottle of cider pop what he give me,
and it got into my head, and I never felt so
durn good in all my life. I got to singin'
and I danced Old Dan Tucker right thar in
the dinin' room, and I took a wrestle out of
Mr. bon-sour mon-sour; and jist when I got
to enjoyin' myself right good, they called in
alot of constables, and it cost me sixteen
dollars and forty-five cents, and then they
took me out ridin' in a little blue wagon
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