"Zadkiel he's been kinder
ailin like fer a spell back, an his wife, she says ez haow he can't
live a month daown tew the jail, an wen Iry tuk Zadkiel orf, she tuk
on reel bad. I declare for't, it seemed kinder tough."
"I hearn ez they be tew new fellers a studyin law intew Squire
Sedgwick's office," said Obadiah Weeks, a gawky youth of perhaps
twenty, evidently anxious to buy a standing among the adult circle of
talkers by contributing an item of information.
Abner groaned. "Great Crypus! More blood-suckers. Why, they be ten
lawyers in Stockbridge taown a'ready, an they warn't but one wen I wuz
a boy, an thar wuz more settlers 'n they be naow."
"Wal, I guess they'll git nuff to dew," said Ezra Phelps. "I hearn as
haow they's seven hundred cases on the docket o' the Common Pleas,
nex' week, mos' on em fer debt."
"I hearn as two hundred on em be from Stockbridge an the iron-works,"
added Israel. "I declare for't Zadkiel 'll hev plenty o' kumpny daown
tew jail, by the time them suits be all tried."
"By gosh, what be we a comin tew?" groaned Abner. "It doos seem zif we
all on us mout z'well move daown tew the jail to onc't, an hev done
with 't. We're baown to come to 't fuss or las'.
Pages:
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33