s’I, yes, look at it, s’I — what could he ’a’ wanted of it, s’I. Sh-she, Sister Hotchkiss, sh-she — “

“But how in the nation’d they ever git that grindstone in there, anyway? ’n’ who dug that-air hole? ’n’ who — “

“My very words, Brer Penrod! I was a-sayin’ — pass that-air sasser o’ m’lasses, won’t ye?

— I was a-sayin’ to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute, how did they git that grindstone in there? s’I. Without help, mind you — ’thout help! Thar’s where ’tis. Don’t tell me, s’I; there wuz help, s’I; ’n’ ther’ wuz a plenty help, too, s’I; ther’s ben a dozen a-helpin’