But is there nobody here acquainted with you?
And if there was, what would that prove? said a man of the law.
My stars, no! them that know’d me know’d enough to keep away, when they lugged me off to jail.
And so there’s nobody here to say a kind word for you, if your life depended on it?
No Sir—nobody at all—nobody cares for Martha. Gracious God—what unspeakable simplicity!
O, I forgot Sir, I forgot! cried Martha, leaning over the bar and clapping her hands with a cry of childish joy. I did see neighbor Joe Trip, t’other day, and I told him he ought to stick by me—
Well where is he—what did he say?
Why he said he’d rather not, if ’twas all the same to me.
He’d rather not—where does he live?
And I spoke to three more, said a bystander, but they wouldn’t come so fur, some was afeared, and some wouldn’t take the trouble.