Yes, sir, that's a fact.

Wa'al, some years ago I had somethin' of a deal on with a New York man by the name of Price.

He had a place in Newport where his fam'ly spent the summer, an' where he went as much as he could git away.

I was down to New York to see him, an' we hadn't got things quite straightened out, an' he says to me, 'I'm goin' over to Newport, where my wife an' fam'ly is, fer Sunday, an' why can't you come with me,' he says, 'an' stay over till Monday?
an' we c'n have the day to ourselves over this matter ?' 'Wa'al,' I says, 'I'm only down here on this bus'nis, an' as I left a hen on, up home, I'm willin' to save the time 'stid of waitin' here fer you to git back, if you don't think,' I says, 'that it'll put Mis' Price out any to bring home a stranger without no notice.' "'Wa'al,' he says, laughin', 'I guess she c'n manage fer once,' an' so I went along.

When we got there the' was a carriage to meet us, an' two men in uniform, one to drive an' one to open the door, an' we got in an' rode up to the house--cottige, he called it, but it was built of stone, an' wa'n't only about two sizes smaller 'n the Fifth Avenue Hotel.