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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. 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.
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: 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:
“What’s the name of them people over on t’other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?” “What’s the name of them people over on t’other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?”
They says: They says:
“There’s several; but it’s the Proctors, mainly.” “There’s several; but it’s the Proctors, mainly.”
“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.” “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.”
“Which one?” “Which one?”
“I don’t know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it’s—” “I don’t know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it’s—”
“Sakes alive, I hope it ain’t HANNER?” “Sakes alive, I hope it ain’t HANNER?”
“I’m sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner’s the very one.” “I’m sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner’s the very one.”
“My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?” “My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?”
“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.” “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.”
“Only think of that, now! What’s the matter with her?” “Only think of that, now! What’s the matter with her?”
I couldn’t think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says: I couldn’t think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says:
“Mumps.” “Mumps.”
“Mumps your granny! They don’t set up with people that’s got the mumps.” “Mumps your granny! They don’t set up with people that’s got the mumps.”
“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.” “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.”
“How’s it a new kind?” “How’s it a new kind?”
“Because it’s mixed up with other things.” “Because it’s mixed up with other things.”
“What other things?” “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.” “Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don’t know what all.”
“My land! And they call it the MUMPS?” “My land! And they call it the MUMPS?”
“That’s what Miss Mary Jane said.” “That’s what Miss Mary Jane said.”
“Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?” “Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?”
“Why, because it IS the mumps. That’s what it starts with.” “Why, because it IS the mumps. That’s what it starts with.”
“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?” “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?”
“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.” “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.”
“Well, it’s awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I’ll go to Uncle Harvey and—” “Well, it’s awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I’ll go to Uncle Harvey and—”
“Oh, yes,” I says, “I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn’t lose no time.” “Oh, yes,” I says, “I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn’t lose no time.”
“Well, why wouldn’t you?” “Well, why wouldn’t you?”
“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—” “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—”

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. 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.
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: 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:
“What’s the name of them people over on t’other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?” “What’s the name of them people over on t’other side of the river that you all goes to see sometimes?”
They says: They says:
“There’s several; but it’s the Proctors, mainly.” “There’s several; but it’s the Proctors, mainly.”
“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.” “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.”
“Which one?” “Which one?”
“I don’t know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it’s—” “I don’t know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it’s—”
“Sakes alive, I hope it ain’t HANNER?” “Sakes alive, I hope it ain’t HANNER?”
“I’m sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner’s the very one.” “I’m sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner’s the very one.”
“My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?” “My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?”
“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.” “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.”
“Only think of that, now! What’s the matter with her?” “Only think of that, now! What’s the matter with her?”
I couldn’t think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says: I couldn’t think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says:
“Mumps.” “Mumps.”
“Mumps your granny! They don’t set up with people that’s got the mumps.” “Mumps your granny! They don’t set up with people that’s got the mumps.”
“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.” “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.”
“How’s it a new kind?” “How’s it a new kind?”
“Because it’s mixed up with other things.” “Because it’s mixed up with other things.”
“What other things?” “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.” “Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don’t know what all.”
“My land! And they call it the MUMPS?” “My land! And they call it the MUMPS?”
“That’s what Miss Mary Jane said.” “That’s what Miss Mary Jane said.”
“Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?” “Well, what in the nation do they call it the MUMPS for?”
“Why, because it IS the mumps. That’s what it starts with.” “Why, because it IS the mumps. That’s what it starts with.”
“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?” “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?”
“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.” “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.”
“Well, it’s awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I’ll go to Uncle Harvey and—” “Well, it’s awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I’ll go to Uncle Harvey and—”
“Oh, yes,” I says, “I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn’t lose no time.” “Oh, yes,” I says, “I WOULD. Of COURSE I would. I wouldn’t lose no time.”
“Well, why wouldn’t you?” “Well, why wouldn’t you?”
“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—” “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—”