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Show Cncle Ephralm. Harper's Magazine: Uncle Eph-raim's Eph-raim's rusty hat droops humbly over his black and wrinkled forehead, his coat pockets are sagging away from his coat, one knee is covered with a blue patch, the other one with a white one sewed on with black thread, his shoes are full of holes and it would puzzle anyone to declare the original color of an article of his apparel. He pulls off the drooping hat as he looks over my garden fence and gives me a smile that makes me feel better for an hour. "Miss Alice," he asks, cheerfully, cheer-fully, "you don't know nobody that wants ter hire nobody to do nothin' fer 'em dis mawnin', does you?" |