"Well, now, Mawse Gawge, couldn' you mek me' look lak eighty-fo', an' be a little youngah?"
"Why, what do you want to be younger for?"
"You see, hit's jes' lak dis, Mawse Gawge. I come up hyeah to ax you—I want—dat is—me an' Manette, we wants to git ma'ied."
"Get married!" thundered Marston. "What you, you old scarecrow, with one foot in the grave!"
"Heish, Mastah, 'buse me kin' o' low. Don't th'ow yo' words 'roun' so keerless."
"This is what you wanted your Sundays off for, to go sparking around—you an exhorter, too."
"But I's been missin' my po' ol' wife so much hyeah lately."
"You've been missing her, oh, yes, and so you want to get a woman young enough to be your granddaughter to fill her place."
"Well, Mas' Gawge, you know, ef I is ol' an' feeble, ez you say, I need a strong young han' to he'p me down de hill, an' ef Manette don' min' spa'in' a few mont's er yeahs—"
"That'll do, I'll see what your mistress says. Come back in an hour."