Mr. Snavely:
Once the city gets into a ba-hoy's sa-histem, he a-loses his a-hankerin', for the ca-huntry.
Mr. Snavely:
I think I'll go milk the elk.
Mrs. Snavely:
He wants more money and if he don't get it, he'll take our malamutes.
Mr. Snavely:
He won't take old Balto, my lead dog.
Mrs. Snavely:
Why not, Pa?
Mr. Snavely:
'Cause I et him.
Mrs. Snavely:
You ET him?
Mr. Snavely:
He was mighty good with mustard.
Mr. Snavely:
And it ain't a fit night out for man nor beast.
Mr. Snavely:
[trying to play the bugle] The cold has affected my embouchure.
Chester:
I feel so tired, I think I'll go to bed.
Mr. Snavely:
Why don't you lie down and take a little rest first, Chester?
Mr. Snavely:
My Uncle Ichabod said, speakin' of the city, "It ain't no place for a woman, gal, but pretty men go thar."复制复制成功复制失败,请手动复制