Scratch Hill remembered the rifles in its hands and took comfort.
"The Fayetteville co't air a higher co't than this, Uncle Sammy," explained the squire indulgently.
"I'm aweer of that," snapped the patriarch.

"I've seen hit's steeple." "Air you finished, Uncle Sammy ?" asked the squire deferentially.
"I 'low I am.

But I 'low that if this here case is goin' agin Bob Yancy I'd recommend him to go home and not listen to no mo' foolishness." "Mr.Yancy will oblige this co't by setting still while I finish this case," said the squire with dignity.

"As I've already p'inted out, the question of veracity presents itself strongly to the mind of this here colt.

Mr.Yancy has sworn to one thing, Mr.Blount to another.