Opening paragraph of A Pagan of the Hills by Charles Neville Buck

It’s plum amazin’ ter heer ye norate thet ye’ve done been tradin’ and hagglin’ with old man McGivins long enough ter buy his logs offen him and yit ye hain’t never met up with Alexander. I kain’t hardly fathom hit noways.’ The shambling mountaineer stretched himself to his lean length of six feet two, and wagged an incredulous head. Out of pale eyes he studied the man before him until the newcomer from ‘down-below’ felt that, in the attitude, lay almost the force of rebuke. It was as though he stood self-convicted of having visited Naples without seeing Vesuvius.

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