We has our own good times.

An' I want you to come Sunday night an' tell all 'bout the good eggs, fish, and butter.

Mark my words, Bobby, we's all gwine to git free.

I seed it all in a vision, as plain as de nose on yer face." "Well, I hope your vision will come out all right, and that the eggs will keep and the butter be fresh till we have our next meetin'." "Now, Bob, you sen' word to Uncle Dan'el, Tom Anderson, an' de rest ob dem, to come to McCullough's woods nex' Sunday night.

I want to hab a sin-killin' an' debil-dribin' time.