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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Colonel Carter of Cartersville"


"Scuse me till I run down to de kitchen an' git my spec's. I can't see
like"--
"Here, take mine!" said Fitz, handing him his gold ones. He would have
lent him his eyes if he could have found that coal-field the sooner.
The turtle crawled slowly up, its head thrust out inquiringly, inched
along the margin of the map, and backed carefully down again, pausing
for such running commentaries as "Dis yer's de ribber;" "Dat's de
road;" "Dis de ma'sh."
The group was now a compact mass, every eye watching Chad's finger as
though it were a divining rod--Fitz full of smothered fears lest after
all the prize should slip from his grasp; the agent anxious but
reserved; Yancey and the judge hovering between hope and despair, with
eyes on the empty decanter; and last of all the colonel, on the outside,
holding a candle himself, so that his guests might see the better--the
least interested man in the room.
Presently the finger stopped, and Chad looked up into his master's
face.
"If I was down dar, Marsa George, jes a minute, I could tole ye, 'ca'se
I reckelmember de berry tree whar Marsa John had de spyglass sot on
its legs.


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