Word of the Day: Context

Now, my vocabularies ain't so good so bear with me while I find the words to tell my tale. If I backtrack a lil' here and there or you think I'm yammerin' on, well don't hold it against me 'cause my memory not gon' be so sharp with a gut warmer in the palm. And you b'hoys, let's keep this real civilized, the sheriff don't need no bother on this fine day.
 
It was in the fall of... a few years back, if I recall. I had received an official looking letter, folded clean and proper like with a watermark. It was from a Boston attorney with advice that I was the sole beneficiary of my great-aunt's estate. Now this came as a surprise as I did not know I had a great-aunt and certainly not one with money to her name. There were no details given, only the instruction that I was to visit the firm's office in person.
 
I had no cow punching on and with no responsibilities as such pending I packed my war bag and cut a path. The journey up, which I made in part by wagon, partly by railroad, and hell, I must've walked a hundred miles in between, wasn't altogether uneventful. You know how it is, a man gets lonely on the road and them bed-fagots ain't shy. But I'll leave out them taradiddles for another time.
 
Weary from beating the road, I arrived in Boston, Massachusetts.

Now, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't seen the cities back east before, but spend enough time out west and those five story, brick faced city houses, 'specially those ones up against the park, really are something. Not knowing how much inheritance I was due to receive, I looked on at those rows of flash houses, some with balconies, some with bay windows, and dared to hope that by the end of the day I could well have the chink to buy one, or at least a shebang on a plot here in E' Town.
 
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