Neither would he permit anybody, not even "Captain Dab," to see his letter after it was written.
"I's been mighty partikler 'bout de pronounciation," he said to himself, "specially in wot I wrote to Mr.Morris, but I'd like to see dem all read dem letters.

Guess dar'll be a high time at our house." It would be a long while before Frank Harley's epistle would reach the eyes that were anxiously waiting for it, but there were indeed "high times" in those three houses on the Long-Island shore.
Old Bill Lee was obliged to trust largely to the greater learning of his wife, but he chuckled over every word he managed to pick out, as if he had pulled in a twenty-pound bluefish; and the signature at the bottom affected him somewhat as if he had captured a small whale.
"Sho! De boy!" said Glorianna.

"He's doin' fust-rate.

Dar ain't anoder young gen'lman at dat ar' 'cad'my jes' like him.

Onless it's young Mr.
Kinzer.