"I'd just like to see him hung." "So would I," said Bill Day, leaning over to Norman.

"Ef a Dutchman wash to court my sishter, I'd--" "He'd be a fool ef he did," piped Jim West.

For Bill Day's sister was a "maid not vendible," as Shakespeare has it.
"See yer," said Bill, trying in vain to draw his coat.

"Looky yer, Jeems; ef you say anythin' agin Ann Marier, I'll commit the wust larson on you you ever seed." "I didn't say nothin' agin Ann Marier," squeaked Jim.

"I was talkin' agin the Dutch." "Well, that'sh all right Ha--oop! Boys, let's do somethin', larson or arsony or--somethin'." A bucket of tar and some feathers were bought, for which young Anderson was made to pay, and Bill Day insisted on buying fifteen feet of rope.
"Bekase," as he said, "arter you git the feathers on the bird, you may--you may want to help him to go to roosht you know, on a hickory limb.