Still, I'm cur'ous to
know whatever they're howlin' about anyhow.'
"'Which you're too conceited, Boggs,' says Tutt, cuttin' in on the
powwow. 'You-all is allers thinkin' everythin' means you. Now, I
hears them dogs howlin', an' havin' beheld the spectacle they
performs in, I sort o' allows they're sorrowin' over their
disgraceful employment--sort o' 'shamed of their game. An' well them
dogs might be bowed in sperit! for a more mendacious an' lyin'
meelodramy than said "Uncle Tom's Cabin," I never yet pays four
white chips to see; an' I'm from Illinoy, an' was a Abe Lincoln man
an' a rank black ab'litionist besides.'
"'Seein' I once owns a couple of hundred Guineas,' says Enright, 'my
feelin's ag'in slavery never mounts so high as Tutt's; but as for
eloocidatin' them dog-songs that's set your nerves to millin',
Boggs, it's easy. Whenever you-all hears a dog mournin' an' howlin'
like them hound-pups does last night, that's because he smells
somethin' he can't locate; an' nacherally he's agitated tharby. Now
yereafter, never let your imagination pull its picket-pin that a-
way, an' go to cavortin' 'round permiscus--don't go romancin' off on
any of them ghost round-ups you're addicted to.
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