"
"I kin mek mo'n lub," Chunk answered, nodding at her portentously;
"I kin mek mischief."
"Reck'n you do dat anyhow."
"See yere, Zany, does you tink Marse Scoville a fool?"
"Ob co'se not."
"Well, he doan tink me a fool. Whose 'pinion's wuth de mos'? Who
took keer on 'im? Who got 'im off safe right un'er de nose ob one ob
Mad Whately's sogers? Who brung 'im back des in time ter stop dat ar
mar'age en gib we uns freedom? You mighty peart, but you got a heap
ter larn 'fo' you cut yo' eye-tooths."
"Some folks gits dere eye-tooths en doan git nuthin' wid 'em," Zany
remarked nonchalantly. "I'se 'mit dough dat you comin' on, Chunk.
W'en you gits growed up you'se be right smart."
"I doan min' de foolishness ob yo' talk, Zany," Chunk replied
coolly, between his huge mouthfuls. "Dat's in you, en you kyant he'p
hit any mo'n a crow cawin'. I'se allus mek 'lowance fer dat. I des
'proves dis 'casion ter 'zort you ter be keerful w'at you DOES.
Dere's gwine ter be mighty ticklish times--sorter flash-bang times,
yer know.
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