"Oh, one o' last year or year befo' last."
"Last year," Margaret repeated contemptuously. "If I can't get this month's paper, I won't have none."
"Wife's mighty particular about her paper, Gabe," Jasper shouted. "Say, fetch her one o' them farmer papers and then it won't make no diffunce how old it is."
"All right. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Gabe," and then thinking of something important Starbuck hastened to cry out: "Say, Gabe, you might fetch me a can of cove oysters and about a straw hat full o' crackers." The last request was shouted through the window, on the sill of which there was a tin cup and near by, in a corner, was a jug. Taking up the jug and the cup Starbuck, approaching his visitor, inquired: "Have a sneeze, Laz?"
The young fellow did not look round; he saw neither the jug nor the cup, but he knew what was meant, and with a slight change of countenance as he arose, he replied: "Ain't snoze ter-day."
Jasper gave him the cup, raised the jug and said: "Shout when you've got enough."
Instantly Laz became animated, but without a change of countenance: "Say, ricolleck that feller lived over our way, had a white hoss—one day come along and—" The cup ran over.
"You ain't very good at shoutin', air you?"
"Whoa," said Laz.