JIM They done lawed me way from it for hittin' you wid dat bone.
DAVE Dat ain't nothin'. It was my head you hit. An' if I don't keer whut dem ole ugly-rump niggers got to do wid it?
DAVE (Seizing Jim's arm and facing him back toward the town.) They better! Look here, Jim, if they try to keep you out dat town we'll go out to dat swamp and git us a mule bone a piece and come back and boil dat stew down to a low gravy.
JIM You mean dat Dave? (Dave nods his head eagerly.)
DAVE Us wasn't mad wid one 'nother nohow. Come on less go back to town. Dem mullet heads better leave me be, too. (Picks up a heavy stick) I wish Lum would come tellin' me bout de law when I got all dis law in _my_ hands. An' de rest of dem 'gator-face jigs--if they ain't got a whole set of mule bones and a good determination they better not bring de mess up.
End of Project Gutenberg's De Turkey and De Law, by Zora Neale Hurston