"No, it ain't; log roll and timber slide the hull consarn."
"These are queer expressions you've got."
"Yaas, Mr. Corsten, I waynt and promised that there priest as looked like Mr. Nash, guaiss it must ha' bin his brother, as I wouldn't sweaur no moer. And now, it keeps my mind workin' mornin' and night, so'st to know what to spit out when I'm raiul mad and hoppen."
"It must be quite an anxiety to you, Ben."
"Anxiety? It's wearin' my life away. I've got a bit of a rest jest now on loggin' and lumberin', but them words 'll soon be used up."
"What's to hinder you repeating them, or leaving them out altogether? I hardly ever feel the need of them."
"It's the way you're broughten up, like your food. What 'ud do you for dinner, wouldn't be nigh enough for me. Same ways in speakin', they must be something to fill your talk out."
"Swearing is a poor business, Ben. Our Saviour, when He was on earth, said, Swear not at all."
"Is that in the Bible, Mr. Corsten?"
"Yes."