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I felt bones crunching and wasn’t for sure if they was hisn or mine.

Tug said, “If I’s planned it jus’ right, the Tennessee toothpick’ll hit Tug right in that fat butt of hisn!”

He says in that whining singing-a-song voice of hisn, “Well, couldn’t I jus’ shoot him in the foot and we wouldn’t have to worry ’bout him running at all?”

“He knowed they time was coming, like that pointer done. He could tell you when hisn coming, if he could talk. Or yours. Or mine.”

“Ah often wonder how dat lil wife uh hisn makes out wid him, ’cause he’s uh man dat changes everything, but nothin’ don’t change him.”