Go on out there and catch us a chicken.

Come and listen to a story about a man named Jed, a poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed.

I suppose his father matriculated him.

And up at one end, there's a lady standing there made out of rock, and she's a-pouring water out of a jar right into that cement pond!

We're going out to shoot us a nice, big, fluffy souffle.

Out of the way!

By thunder, you could outrun, out-climb, out-fight, and out-shoot every boy in them hills.

Here, I'll get the shovel and a hoe and rake it out of there.

I kind of think maybe it was his ma.

Just like everything else out here, so solid.

Yeah, folks don't need much wood out here.

Ellie, you run out and fetch some wood.

A person can get crippled from a hold like that.

But now it's time to say goodbye to Jed and all his kin.

Matter of fact, her and me is going out hunting.

A what?

However, as though I admire his enthusiasm, I must forbid him access through the main entrance.

I hear you get out there and chop down one of them tree trunks.

If it is, I was right about things growing bigger out here.

Oh, well, we have some excellent educational facilities out here, Mr. Crabbit.