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me with perceptions and passions
and then cast me abroad an object for the scorn and horror of mankind.
But on you only had I any claim for pity and redress, and from you I
determined to seek that justice which I vainly attempted to gain from
any other being that wore the human form.
“My travels were long and the sufferings I endured intense. It was
late in autumn when I quitted the district where I had so long resided.
I travelled only at night, fearful of encountering the visage of a
human
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I hope it ain't _Hanner_?”
“I'm sorry to say it,” I says, “but Hanner's the very one.”
“My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?”
“It ain't no name for it. They set up with her all night, Miss Mary
Jane said, and they don't think she'll last many hours.”
“Only think of that, now! What's the matter with her?”
I couldn't think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says:
“Mumps.”
“Mumps your granny! They don't set up with people that's got the
mumps.”
“They don't, don't they? You better bet they do with _these_ mumps.
These mumps is different. It's a new kind, Miss Mary Jane said.”
“How's it a new kind?”
“Because it's mixed up with other things.”
“What other things?”
“Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and
yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don't know what all.”
“My land! And they call it the _mumps_?”
“That's what Miss Mary Jane said.”
“Well, what in the nation do they call it the _mumps_ for?”
“Why, because it _is_ the mumps. That's what it starts with.”
“Well, ther' ain't no sense in it. A body might stump his toe, and take
pison, and fall down the well, and break his neck, and bust his brains
out, and somebody come along and ask what killed him, and some numskull
up and say, 'Why, he stumped his _toe_.' Would ther' be any sense
in that? _No_. And ther' ain't no sense in _this_, nuther. Is it
ketching?”
“Is it _ketching_? Why, how you talk. Is a _harrow_ catching--in the
dark? If you don't hitch on to one tooth, you're bound to on another,
ain't you? And you can't get away with that tooth without fetching the
whole harrow along, can you? Well, these kind of mumps is a kind of a
harrow, as you may say--and it ain't no slouch of a harrow, nuther, you
come to get it hitched on good.”
“Well, it's awful, I think,” says the hare-lip. “I'll go to Uncle
Harvey and--”
“Oh, yes,” I says, “I _would_. Of _course_ I would. I wouldn't lose no
time.”
“Well, why wouldn't you