Duke: Blast me stump, Darlin', I 'll not ferget yer.
Darlin': Does I get brass beer-pulls in the tap?
Duke: Everythin' shiny.
Darlin': I 'm lovin' yer.
Duke: Betsy would kinder jump at me. There 's somethin' tender about a young girl's first love—cooin' in yer arms.
Duke: I alers was a fav'rite with the ladies. I think it 's me whiskers.
Darlin': 'Vast there, Duke! There 's a shoal ahead. Red Joe 's a right smart feller.
Duke: Red Joe?
Darlin': Him. He sets and watches her.