You're lookin' for that book of yourn, ain't you?
It's right there behind them wax flowers on that what-not.

I seen it layin' around and I jist shoved it back there so Doc wouldn't git at it." "Well, you sit down, ma'm," said the book agent.

"I can get it.

But there was no need to be so particular.

The doctor knows how to hand a book as well as the next man." The doctor's wife drew her darning basket from the side table and turned its contents into her lap.
"'Twasn't that," she said; "I'd never have thought of that, I guess.