But shucks!--they don't mean no harm by it! So I tells him I am a damn Yankee and asts him agin if I can do anything fur him.
"Yes," he says, "yo' can tell a friend of mine Bud Davis has happened to an accident, and get him over here quick with his wagon to tote me home." I was to go down the railroad track past them burning warehouses till I come to the third street, and then turn to my left.

"The third house from the track has got an iron picket fence in front of it," says Bud, "and it's the only house in that part of town which has.

Beauregard Peoples lives there.

He is kin to me." "Yes," I says, "and Beauregard is jest as likely as not going to take a shot out of the front window at me, fur luck, afore I can tell him what I want.

It seems to be a kind of habit in these here parts to-night--I'm getting homesick fur Illinoise.