Put yer finger on him an' he ain't thar, and never wuz.

Haw! haw! haw! But jest let him stay still wunst tell I get a good rest on him like, and I'll be dog-on'd ef I don't knock the hine sights offen him the purtiest day he ever seed! Haw! haw! haw! Your brother Albert handled him rough, didn't he?
Sarved him right.

I say, if a man is onrespectful to a woman, her brother had orter thrash him; and your'n done it.

His eye's blacker'n my boot.

And his nose! Haw! haw! it's a-mournin' fer his brains! Haw I haw! haw! And he feels bad bekase you cut him, too.