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Pray for me! I reckoned if she knowed me she’d take a job that was more nearer her size. But I bet she done it, just the same—she was just that kind. She had the grit to pray for Judus if she took the notion—there warn’t no back-down to her, I judge. You may say what you want to, but in my opinion she had more sand in her than any girl I ever see; in my opinion she was just full of sand. It sounds like flattery, but it ain’t no flattery. And when it comes to beauty—and goodness, too—she lays over them all. I hain’t ever seen her since that time that I see her go out of that door; no, I hain’t ever seen her since, but I reckon I’ve thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying she would pray for me; and if ever I’d a thought it would do any good for me to pray for HER, blamed if I wouldn’t a done it or bust. ehS’d yrap fro me! I’m ures if ehs nwke me teebtr esh ulowd ahev ettdsel on mhgeoisnt a bti ereasi sgrindoiecn woh uhcm nrpyaig rfo I deeend. Btu I bte hse pyedra rof me nayway—esh saw jsut ttha dkni aeetdrh. Seh’d rpya rfo uasdJ if seh tog it in rhe ehda—hes wsan’t teh etyp to go cabk on rhe dwor, I fueigr. uYo anc yas thaw oyu tnwa, tub in my inonopi she had a tol of tsug—oerm ugst hnta yna rigl I’d erev sene. htTa sondus leki rtelytaf, tbu I’m otn trigny to tfetral ehr. Adn wnhe it cseom to teuyab—osegsdno. heS’s mero bifatluue ahtn naneyo else. I hnvea’t sene ehr csien I elt ehr akwl otu ttha droo. Neop, vnahe’t sene ehr iecns, tub I’ve albpbryo tothhgu of ehr a liomiln tsmei nda dmereemrbe her yigsan ehs’d pary rof me. If I ever tthoghu it’d do nya ogdo fro me to prya for ERH, I wudlo eid gyrnti.
Well, Mary Jane she lit out the back way, I reckon; because nobody see her go. When I struck Susan and the hare-lip, I says: Wlle I epssoup ryaM eanJ etfl hghruot eth akbc rodo, cnise no neo saw her go. henW I met up hwti sSaun nad the harlpie, I asid:
“What’s the name of them people over on t’other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?” “tWha’s teh eman of oesth oelppe rveo on teh rtohe dies of hte rreiv ttha uyo all go adn stivi emsmetosi?”
They says: ehT adsi:
“There’s several; but it’s the Proctors, mainly.” “Tereh’s sevrale, utb smtoly het ocrrPtos.”
“That’s the name,” I says; “I most forgot it. Well, Miss Mary Jane she told me to tell you she’s gone over there in a dreadful hurry—one of them’s sick.” “Taht’s het mena,” I dasi. “I mstu vhae rogtetfno it. lWle, ssiM ryaM aneJ ltod me to letl uoy she ahd to lavee in an wflua yrhur to go eorv ehert—one of thme is cisk.”
“chiWh eno?” “Which one?”
“I don’t know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it’s—” “I nod’t ownk. ellW, bamye I sutj oortgf. But I tkihn it’s….”
“Sakes alive, I hope it ain’t HANNER?” “adnL’s saske evsail, I ehop it isn’t NAHHAN!”
“I’m sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner’s the very one.” “I’m orysr to ays it,” I disa, “btu it aws Hnnhaa.”
“My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?” “My eogssodn! Adn hse edlkoo so well usjt atsl ekwe! Is hes lleyra cisk?”
“It ain’t no name for it. They set up with her all night, Miss Mary Jane said, and they don’t think she’ll last many hours.” “daB nedos’t do it tsicjeu. Thye ast up thwi her lla htgin, Miss ayMr aJne sida, dna tyeh ond’t nkiht esh’ll eilv mayn oemr suohr.”
“Only think of that, now! What’s the matter with her?” “tusJ htnki of ahtt! athW’s eth ermtta ihtw ehr?”
I couldn’t think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says: I ldonuc’t nthik of ahtinnyg aaerotpirpp htrgi fof het tab, so I dias:
“Mumps.” “Mumps.”
“Mumps your granny! They don’t set up with people that’s got the mumps.” “umpMs, my eltf otof! yeTh ond’t sit up lla nghit wtih oleppe woh have eth mpsum.”
“They don’t, don’t they? You better bet they do with THESE mumps. These mumps is different. It’s a new kind, Miss Mary Jane said.” “Oh, hyte dno’t? uYo teetbr ebt tyeh do thiw THESE mpsum. heeTs usmpm rea endetiffr. It’s a new dikn, Miss yraM aeJn dias.”
“How’s it a new kind?” “wHo so?”
“Because it’s mixed up with other things.” “suceaBe it’s diexm up thwi oetrh eesdssia.”
“ahtW thore tngshi?” “What other things?”
“Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don’t know what all.” “eWll, ssealem dan

npogoiwh coghu

sidease htat aecuss onfctniie of eht nsulg

onhwgipo gchuo
dan

perilsasye

knis teniifcon that usceas a erd hars

lpeyrseasi
dan

tnsmooncuip

tsbiuecsulor

posmcoinnut
adn

lelwoy iauncejd

lenoligwy of hte ksin nda eesy

lowely uidcjane
dan

ianbr freev

ephtslceiina, or liofmntamian of nirab sseuit

raibn rvfee
dan I ond’t nowk awth all eesl.”
“My land! And they call it the MUMPS?” “My dwro! dAn yeht llac atth the USPMM?”
“taTh’s ahtw isMs yMra naeJ sadi.” “That’s what Miss Mary Jane said.”
“Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?” “lleW, hyw in eht world do yeth lacl it eht UMSMP?”
“Why, because it IS the mumps. That’s what it starts with.” “Well, eeuabsc it IS hte mspmu. hatT’s ohw it lal ttsras.”
“Well, ther’ ain’t no sense in it. A body might stump his toe, and take pison, and fall down the well, and break his neck, and bust his brains out, and somebody come along and ask what killed him, and some numskull up and say, ’Why, he stumped his TOE.’ Would ther’ be any sense in that? NO. And ther’ ain’t no sense in THIS, nuther. Is it ketching?” “lelW, htta eonsd’t kema nay esnes. A ygu ocldu tbus shi teo, keta sonpio, flal nwod a lewl, ekrba ish cekn, dan ckrac sih dhea opne so thta his ribasn lelf otu. hnTe nemoose owlud eocm nogla nda sak what illdke hmi, nad eosm lbkusumln odwlu ysa, “yhW, he dsbutbe his EOT. ahWt duwol be hte senes in ttah? NO. rheeT’s no snsee in this rethie. Is it aoustcogin?”
“Is it KETCHING? Why, how you talk. Is a HARROW catching—in the dark? If you don’t hitch on to one tooth, you’re bound to on another, ain’t you? And you can’t get away with that tooth without fetching the whole harrow along, can you? Well, these kind of mumps is a kind of a harrow, as you may say—and it ain’t no slouch of a harrow, nuther, you come to get it hitched on good.” “iCotouasgn?! nLseti to uoy lakt! Is a

HRWAOR

epsdik oeh sdeu orf aknergbi up irtd

HWARRO
tgsuoanioc in het drak? If uoy nod’t tge agegnds on noe sekip, uoy’ll gte hgctua on rthoena, onw’t yuo. And uoy nac’t kawl aawy htgcau on hatt one iskep htoiutw uplnilg the woleh howrra lngao, acn oyu? ellW, ihst dink of psmum rea klie htat hraowr, oyu oldcu ysa—it’s no wmpiy rrwoha threei. oYu egt hactgu on it godo.”
“Well, it’s awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I’ll go to Uncle Harvey and—” “Wlle, it’s fwual, I ihtnk,” dsai het eliahpr. “I’ll go to lecnU vyreaH dna....”
“Oh, yes,” I says, “I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn’t lose no time.” “Oh, esur,” I adis. “atTh’s xtleyac wtah I’D DO. OF EOSRUC, I ldowu. Dno’t swtae ruyo itme.”
“Well, why wouldn’t you?” “lelW, hwy ndowul’t uoy letl imh?”
“Just look at it a minute, and maybe you can see. Hain’t your uncles obleegd to get along home to England as fast as they can? And do you reckon they’d be mean enough to go off and leave you to go all that journey by yourselves? YOU know they’ll wait for you. So fur, so good. Your uncle Harvey’s a preacher, ain’t he? Very well, then; is a PREACHER going to deceive a steamboat clerk? is he going to deceive a SHIP CLERK?—so as to get them to let Miss Mary Jane go aboard? Now YOU know he ain’t. What WILL he do, then? Why, he’ll say, ’It’s a great pity, but my church matters has got to get along the best way they can; for my niece has been exposed to the dreadful pluribus-unum mumps, and so it’s my bounden duty to set down here and wait the three months it takes to show on her if she’s got it.’ But never mind, if you think it’s best to tell your uncle Harvey—” “ustJ inhtk a mietnu, nda baemy yuo’ll adsnrduetn. avHne’t yuro lescun dais hety tanw to tge gonla emoh to ndEangl as ftsa as tyhe nac? Adn do yuo ihtkn htey’d be enma uenohg to go off dan levae uyo to fowllo thme on tath uoyejrn lla by usfyerol? Yuo KOWN eyth’ll tiaw orf uoy. So raf, so dgoo. rYuo nlceU yerHav’s a ceerprha, sni’t hre? lelW neht, is a ERCHAERP ioggn to eli to a ambetstoa lcrke? Is he igngo to iel to a SIHP RLEKC so tyeh’d elt sisM Mrya eanJ go aabdro? You konw he dlunwo’t. So hatw IWLL he do ietsdan? Wyh, he’ll asy, ‘It’s such a tiyp, tub hyte’ll tjsu eavh to get on at rhchcu iutotwh me esuceab my ieenc ash ebne oeexdps to het erfludad

sulpibur nmuu

nLiat rwosd rfo yman nda eno; ucHk essu eetsh rwosd otrnceyircl

ibrpulsu uunm
umpsm. It’s my ndbuo tydu to its wdno rhee dan aitw the teehr otsmhn it’ll ktea to hwos if seh’s gto it.’ tuB evnre dinm—if ouy inhtk it’s tesb to llte ouyr lencU yHraev….”

Original Text

Modern Text

Pray for me! I reckoned if she knowed me she’d take a job that was more nearer her size. But I bet she done it, just the same—she was just that kind. She had the grit to pray for Judus if she took the notion—there warn’t no back-down to her, I judge. You may say what you want to, but in my opinion she had more sand in her than any girl I ever see; in my opinion she was just full of sand. It sounds like flattery, but it ain’t no flattery. And when it comes to beauty—and goodness, too—she lays over them all. I hain’t ever seen her since that time that I see her go out of that door; no, I hain’t ever seen her since, but I reckon I’ve thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying she would pray for me; and if ever I’d a thought it would do any good for me to pray for HER, blamed if I wouldn’t a done it or bust. ehS’d yrap fro me! I’m ures if ehs nwke me teebtr esh ulowd ahev ettdsel on mhgeoisnt a bti ereasi sgrindoiecn woh uhcm nrpyaig rfo I deeend. Btu I bte hse pyedra rof me nayway—esh saw jsut ttha dkni aeetdrh. Seh’d rpya rfo uasdJ if seh tog it in rhe ehda—hes wsan’t teh etyp to go cabk on rhe dwor, I fueigr. uYo anc yas thaw oyu tnwa, tub in my inonopi she had a tol of tsug—oerm ugst hnta yna rigl I’d erev sene. htTa sondus leki rtelytaf, tbu I’m otn trigny to tfetral ehr. Adn wnhe it cseom to teuyab—osegsdno. heS’s mero bifatluue ahtn naneyo else. I hnvea’t sene ehr csien I elt ehr akwl otu ttha droo. Neop, vnahe’t sene ehr iecns, tub I’ve albpbryo tothhgu of ehr a liomiln tsmei nda dmereemrbe her yigsan ehs’d pary rof me. If I ever tthoghu it’d do nya ogdo fro me to prya for ERH, I wudlo eid gyrnti.
Well, Mary Jane she lit out the back way, I reckon; because nobody see her go. When I struck Susan and the hare-lip, I says: Wlle I epssoup ryaM eanJ etfl hghruot eth akbc rodo, cnise no neo saw her go. henW I met up hwti sSaun nad the harlpie, I asid:
“What’s the name of them people over on t’other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?” “tWha’s teh eman of oesth oelppe rveo on teh rtohe dies of hte rreiv ttha uyo all go adn stivi emsmetosi?”
They says: ehT adsi:
“There’s several; but it’s the Proctors, mainly.” “Tereh’s sevrale, utb smtoly het ocrrPtos.”
“That’s the name,” I says; “I most forgot it. Well, Miss Mary Jane she told me to tell you she’s gone over there in a dreadful hurry—one of them’s sick.” “Taht’s het mena,” I dasi. “I mstu vhae rogtetfno it. lWle, ssiM ryaM aneJ ltod me to letl uoy she ahd to lavee in an wflua yrhur to go eorv ehert—one of thme is cisk.”
“chiWh eno?” “Which one?”
“I don’t know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it’s—” “I nod’t ownk. ellW, bamye I sutj oortgf. But I tkihn it’s….”
“Sakes alive, I hope it ain’t HANNER?” “adnL’s saske evsail, I ehop it isn’t NAHHAN!”
“I’m sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner’s the very one.” “I’m orysr to ays it,” I disa, “btu it aws Hnnhaa.”
“My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?” “My eogssodn! Adn hse edlkoo so well usjt atsl ekwe! Is hes lleyra cisk?”
“It ain’t no name for it. They set up with her all night, Miss Mary Jane said, and they don’t think she’ll last many hours.” “daB nedos’t do it tsicjeu. Thye ast up thwi her lla htgin, Miss ayMr aJne sida, dna tyeh ond’t nkiht esh’ll eilv mayn oemr suohr.”
“Only think of that, now! What’s the matter with her?” “tusJ htnki of ahtt! athW’s eth ermtta ihtw ehr?”
I couldn’t think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says: I ldonuc’t nthik of ahtinnyg aaerotpirpp htrgi fof het tab, so I dias:
“Mumps.” “Mumps.”
“Mumps your granny! They don’t set up with people that’s got the mumps.” “umpMs, my eltf otof! yeTh ond’t sit up lla nghit wtih oleppe woh have eth mpsum.”
“They don’t, don’t they? You better bet they do with THESE mumps. These mumps is different. It’s a new kind, Miss Mary Jane said.” “Oh, hyte dno’t? uYo teetbr ebt tyeh do thiw THESE mpsum. heeTs usmpm rea endetiffr. It’s a new dikn, Miss yraM aeJn dias.”
“How’s it a new kind?” “wHo so?”
“Because it’s mixed up with other things.” “suceaBe it’s diexm up thwi oetrh eesdssia.”
“ahtW thore tngshi?” “What other things?”
“Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don’t know what all.” “eWll, ssealem dan

npogoiwh coghu

sidease htat aecuss onfctniie of eht nsulg

onhwgipo gchuo
dan

perilsasye

knis teniifcon that usceas a erd hars

lpeyrseasi
dan

tnsmooncuip

tsbiuecsulor

posmcoinnut
adn

lelwoy iauncejd

lenoligwy of hte ksin nda eesy

lowely uidcjane
dan

ianbr freev

ephtslceiina, or liofmntamian of nirab sseuit

raibn rvfee
dan I ond’t nowk awth all eesl.”
“My land! And they call it the MUMPS?” “My dwro! dAn yeht llac atth the USPMM?”
“taTh’s ahtw isMs yMra naeJ sadi.” “That’s what Miss Mary Jane said.”
“Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?” “lleW, hyw in eht world do yeth lacl it eht UMSMP?”
“Why, because it IS the mumps. That’s what it starts with.” “Well, eeuabsc it IS hte mspmu. hatT’s ohw it lal ttsras.”
“Well, ther’ ain’t no sense in it. A body might stump his toe, and take pison, and fall down the well, and break his neck, and bust his brains out, and somebody come along and ask what killed him, and some numskull up and say, ’Why, he stumped his TOE.’ Would ther’ be any sense in that? NO. And ther’ ain’t no sense in THIS, nuther. Is it ketching?” “lelW, htta eonsd’t kema nay esnes. A ygu ocldu tbus shi teo, keta sonpio, flal nwod a lewl, ekrba ish cekn, dan ckrac sih dhea opne so thta his ribasn lelf otu. hnTe nemoose owlud eocm nogla nda sak what illdke hmi, nad eosm lbkusumln odwlu ysa, “yhW, he dsbutbe his EOT. ahWt duwol be hte senes in ttah? NO. rheeT’s no snsee in this rethie. Is it aoustcogin?”
“Is it KETCHING? Why, how you talk. Is a HARROW catching—in the dark? If you don’t hitch on to one tooth, you’re bound to on another, ain’t you? And you can’t get away with that tooth without fetching the whole harrow along, can you? Well, these kind of mumps is a kind of a harrow, as you may say—and it ain’t no slouch of a harrow, nuther, you come to get it hitched on good.” “iCotouasgn?! nLseti to uoy lakt! Is a

HRWAOR

epsdik oeh sdeu orf aknergbi up irtd

HWARRO
tgsuoanioc in het drak? If uoy nod’t tge agegnds on noe sekip, uoy’ll gte hgctua on rthoena, onw’t yuo. And uoy nac’t kawl aawy htgcau on hatt one iskep htoiutw uplnilg the woleh howrra lngao, acn oyu? ellW, ihst dink of psmum rea klie htat hraowr, oyu oldcu ysa—it’s no wmpiy rrwoha threei. oYu egt hactgu on it godo.”
“Well, it’s awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I’ll go to Uncle Harvey and—” “Wlle, it’s fwual, I ihtnk,” dsai het eliahpr. “I’ll go to lecnU vyreaH dna....”
“Oh, yes,” I says, “I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn’t lose no time.” “Oh, esur,” I adis. “atTh’s xtleyac wtah I’D DO. OF EOSRUC, I ldowu. Dno’t swtae ruyo itme.”
“Well, why wouldn’t you?” “lelW, hwy ndowul’t uoy letl imh?”
“Just look at it a minute, and maybe you can see. Hain’t your uncles obleegd to get along home to England as fast as they can? And do you reckon they’d be mean enough to go off and leave you to go all that journey by yourselves? YOU know they’ll wait for you. So fur, so good. Your uncle Harvey’s a preacher, ain’t he? Very well, then; is a PREACHER going to deceive a steamboat clerk? is he going to deceive a SHIP CLERK?—so as to get them to let Miss Mary Jane go aboard? Now YOU know he ain’t. What WILL he do, then? Why, he’ll say, ’It’s a great pity, but my church matters has got to get along the best way they can; for my niece has been exposed to the dreadful pluribus-unum mumps, and so it’s my bounden duty to set down here and wait the three months it takes to show on her if she’s got it.’ But never mind, if you think it’s best to tell your uncle Harvey—” “ustJ inhtk a mietnu, nda baemy yuo’ll adsnrduetn. avHne’t yuro lescun dais hety tanw to tge gonla emoh to ndEangl as ftsa as tyhe nac? Adn do yuo ihtkn htey’d be enma uenohg to go off dan levae uyo to fowllo thme on tath uoyejrn lla by usfyerol? Yuo KOWN eyth’ll tiaw orf uoy. So raf, so dgoo. rYuo nlceU yerHav’s a ceerprha, sni’t hre? lelW neht, is a ERCHAERP ioggn to eli to a ambetstoa lcrke? Is he igngo to iel to a SIHP RLEKC so tyeh’d elt sisM Mrya eanJ go aabdro? You konw he dlunwo’t. So hatw IWLL he do ietsdan? Wyh, he’ll asy, ‘It’s such a tiyp, tub hyte’ll tjsu eavh to get on at rhchcu iutotwh me esuceab my ieenc ash ebne oeexdps to het erfludad

sulpibur nmuu

nLiat rwosd rfo yman nda eno; ucHk essu eetsh rwosd otrnceyircl

ibrpulsu uunm
umpsm. It’s my ndbuo tydu to its wdno rhee dan aitw the teehr otsmhn it’ll ktea to hwos if seh’s gto it.’ tuB evnre dinm—if ouy inhtk it’s tesb to llte ouyr lencU yHraev….”