It don't look nat'ral.

I never thought Farnham was no coward when ther time come fer fightin', but this kind o' fixin' shore looks as if we had him skeered stiff.

Wal, it 'll take more 'n a bunch o' San Juan toughs to skeer me.

I reckon ther present plan must be ter try rushin' ther 'Little Yankee.'" He wheeled about, driving the extended tubes of his glass together, his gray beard forking out in front of his lean, brown face like so many bristles.
"Oh, is thet you come back, Stutter?
Thought I heerd somebody walkin' behind me.

I reckon, judgin' from ther outlook over thar, thet the dance is 'bout ter begin; leastwise, the fiddlers is takin' their places," and he waved his gnarled hand toward the distant crowd.