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Sut Lovingood. Yarns Spun by a "Nat'ral Born Durn'd Fool." Warped and Wove for Public Wear.
New York: Dick & Fitzgerald, c1867.
List of Illustrations
Description
Page
[Title Page Image]
SUT LOVINGOOD'S DADDY ACTING HORSE.
"He seem'd tu run jis adzactly es fas' es a ho'net cud fly, hit wer the titest race I ever seed, fur wun hoss to git all the whipin." Page 25.
"He seem'd tu run jis adzactly es fas' es a ho'net cud fly, hit wer the titest race I ever seed, fur wun hoss to git all the whipin." Page 25.
SUT'S NEW-FANGLED SHIRT.
"I hearn a n'ise tarin' a shingle ruff ofen a hous' at wun rake, an' felt like my bones wer all what lef the shut, an' reached the floor."Page34.
"I hearn a n'ise tarin' a shingle ruff ofen a hous' at wun rake, an' felt like my bones wer all what lef the shut, an' reached the floor."Page34.
BLOWN UP WITH SODA.
"Hole hit down, Mister Lovingood! hole hit down! hit s a cure for puppy luv; hole it down!" Page 82.
"Hole hit down, Mister Lovingood! hole hit down! hit s a cure for puppy luv; hole it down!" Page 82.
OLD BURN'S BULL RIDE.
"He jist cum in atwixt his hine legs, an' burried head, an' hon's thar onder a full run, a histen socks starn full two foot, clar of the yeath, an' right then his tail come down with a swish." Page 100.
"He jist cum in atwixt his hine legs, an' burried head, an' hon's thar onder a full run, a histen socks starn full two foot, clar of the yeath, an' right then his tail come down with a swish." Page 100.
EAVES--DROPPING A LODGE OF FREE-MASONS.
"They huddled together into wun corner, an' star'd up et the forkid fernomenon, wot wer a-hangin' in the hole." Page 118.
"They huddled together into wun corner, an' star'd up et the forkid fernomenon, wot wer a-hangin' in the hole." Page 118.
SUT LOVINGOOD'S DOG.
"Jist as he got clost tu the carryall, the powder cotch fire, an' soon arterwards went off, an' so did he, head fust."
"Jist as he got clost tu the carryall, the powder cotch fire, an' soon arterwards went off, an' so did he, head fust."
Page158. BART DAVIS'S DANCE.
"Black silk in h-ll is thar', scream'd she, a-hissin' like onto a cat, an' commenced a-pullin' up by the roots his long har like it wer flax."
"Black silk in h-ll is thar', scream'd she, a-hissin' like onto a cat, an' commenced a-pullin' up by the roots his long har like it wer flax."
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