“See here,” he says to me.
I peeked in where he pointed and seen a reg’lar little hawg-back of gum, red on the two slopes, but whitish in four spots along the ridge, like they’d been a snowfall. Billy grinned, took out that shiny instrument, and give each of them pore little gum buttes the double cross–zip-zip, zip-zip, zip-zip, zip-zip. And, jumpin’ buffaloes! out pops four of the prettiest teeth a man ever seen!
Bugs?–rats!
“Now, a little Bella Donnie,” says Bill, “and the baby’ll be O. K.”
“O. K.!” says Rose. “Aw, Billy!” And such a kissin’!–the baby, a-course.
Ole man Sewell stopped swearin’ a minute. “What’s the matter?” he ast.
“Teeth,” says Billy.
Think of that! Why, the trouble was so clost to Simpson that if it’d been a rattler, it’d ’a’ bit him!
“Teeth!” says the ole man, like he didn’t believe it.
“Come look,” says Billy.