But I sat there and watched that turtle nearly an hour today, and I almost burned up in the sun; but I never heard him sing.

I believe I sweated a double handful of sweat---I know I did--because it got in my eyes, and it was running down over my nose all the time; and you know my pants are tighter than any body else's--Paris foolishness--and the buckskin seat of them got wet with sweat, and then got dry again and began to draw up and pinch and tear loose--it was awful--but I never heard him sing.

Finally I said, This is a fraud--that is what it is, it is a fraud--and if I had had any sense I might have known a cursed mud-turtle couldn't sing.

And then I said, I don't wish to be hard on this fellow, and I will just give him ten minutes to commence; ten minutes -- and then if he don't, down goes his building.

But he didn't commence, you know.