The Fatal Glass of Beer

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 moose call] My old embouchure isn't what it used to be.

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."

Mr. Snavely:
[gagging on the artificial snow] Tastes more like corn flakes!

Mr. Snavely:
Our Chester never stole nothin' from nobody - hardly ever!

Mr. Snavely:
[to the Canadian Mountie in a blizzard] Is it still snowing, Officer Posthlewhistle?

Mr. Snavely:
[during the middle of a blizzard] Be sure to open your window a little bit before you go to bed.

Chester:
I will, Pa, and Ma, remember to open your window a little bit before you go to bed.