“Jest then I stopped to think what I should du, or where to go,—got that all deown?”
(Snappishly) “Yes.”
“Wall, then I seen a sign, and on it wuz: ‘Teams to hire,’ so I went up and told the man to give me a fust-rate team with a hoss I could easy manage myself. My! but you write fast. Is all that deown?” (Surprised).
“It is, and I would like to have the rest of your letter, sir.”
“Wall, that hoss started off all right, but in less than two minutes she got stubborner than any mule; and I hed to get eout, and lick her and kick her and prick her and lick her and kick her and prick her, (continue to repeat these words very rapidly), and she wouldn’t go. Is that all deown, and spelt right?”
“You are only losing time, sir, in repeating that last phrase.”
“That’s my business,—When I see’d she wouldn’t go fur lickin’, I tried to coax her, and coaxed and coaxed and coaxed and coaxed and coaxed, but she wouldn’t go; then I got crosslike
and went—” (here the Yankee makes a chirruping sound which bids defiance to orthography).
“I can’t spell that,” said the Englishman.
“Oh, ye can’t spell that, can’t ye? Then ye needn’t write any more for me.”