“I’m goin’ on tu tell you. Lor! heow I did yel! you’d a thought thar was fifty painters abeout. Miss Dill, she cum a-runnin’ out, an’ ast what was the matter.
“ ‘Look here,’ sez I, holdin’ up my thumb, which was bleedin’ like all Jehu. ‘What shall I do?’ sez I.
“ ‘I’ll tell you what,’ says Miss Dill, an’ she run an’ got a leaf of live-for-ever, an’ sez she, ‘peel off the skin, an’ put the peth on.’
“ ‘Peel it yerself,’ sez I, a-cryin’ with the exhuberant pain.
“So she peeled it and tied it on, an’ in tu days thar wan’t a bit of soreness in it; but the nail cum off.”
“But come to Gillis’s store. What did you say about Harris that night?”
“Wal, all I recollect is, that Thompson an’ a lot of fellers was thar; an’ Thompson and I shot at a mark for whiskey, an’ Thompson he win, and we drinkt at my expense. Then Bill Gallager and Dill they shot, an’ Dill beat Bill, an’ we drinkt at his expense. Then Charley Gillis he shot agin Frank Souther, an’ Frank win; and we drinkt at Charley’s expense; an’ then Frank he sung a song, an’ then Thompson he sung a song; and the next I recollect was—”
“Well, Sir, was what?”
“Why, I waked up next mornin’ on Gillis’ counter the sickest critter yeu ever see. I didn’t get over that spree for tu long weeks.”
“Well, is that all you have to say?”