Thar's a heap of
ignorance in this yere camp, an' we needs a night-school bad. It
would win for fifty dollars a week, Miss; an' you thinks of it.'
"No, the pore girl couldn't think of it nohow.
"'Of course, Miss, says Enright, 'we alls ain't expectin' you to
open this yere academy the first kyards off the deck. You needs time
to line up your affairs, an' am likewise wrung with grief. You takes
your leesure as to that; meanwhile of course your stipend goes on
from now.'
"But the little Sue girl couldn't listen. Her paw is dead, an' now
she's due in the States. She says things is all right thar. She has
friends as her paw never likes; but who's friends of hers, an'
she'll go to them.
"'Well, Miss,' says Enright, mighty regretful, 'if that's how it
lays, I reckons you'll go, so thar's nothin' for us to do but settle
up an' fork over some dust we owes your paw. He bein' now deceased,
of course you represents.'
"The girl couldn't see how any one owes her paw, ''cause he's been
too sick to work,' she says.
"'We owes him all the same,' says Enright, mighty ferocious. 'We
onderstands well enough how we comes to owe him, don't we, Doc?'
"'You can stack in your life we do,' says Doc, plenty prompt an'
cheerful.
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