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Now de Cunnel's gone, she'll hab to git somebody else to make ober." "Well, I must find out about that hill," said Mrs. Sequin, turning for a last glimpse. "Whose old place is this we are coming to?" "Dis is our place, dis is Thornwood," said Uncle Jimpson, half in pride, half in apology, as he skirted the holes in the road. "It don't look lak itself.
And thar's your sister, Captain, lord, sir, she would be the pet of the family, and would help my wife teach the girls manners. Lord!" he continued, laughing, "you've no idea what grand notions have got into the old woman's head about the way of behaving, ever since it war that the Governor of Virginnie sent me a cunnel's commission.
"Let me tie this hyar comforter over the Cunnel's head," Eugenia said, as he bundled the child in a shawl and lifted her in his arms. "Tain't no use," he declared. "The Cunnel ain't travellin' fur." She heard him step from the creaking porch. She heard the dreary wind without.
"Old Bess, that's the Cunnel's favoright dawg, you-all know, she done have 'leven puppies las' night." "That so?" "Yassah. Cunnel, he's off down on the Sun-flowah." "Um-h-h." "Yassah; got most all his dawgs wid 'im. We goin' to have b'ah meat now for sho'," this with a wide grin. "Reckon so," said the visitor. "When's Cunnel coming back, you reckon?"
"Out on you, you flirting critturs!" said she, her indignation provoked, and her sense of propriety shocked by such unworthy behaviour: "Stop thar, you Nell! whar you going? You Sally, you Phoebe, you Jane, and the rest of you! ha'nt you no better idea of what's manners for a Cunnel's daughters?
He wiped his forehead and glared. "Then s'pose you explain somethin'! I'm ridin' through town a while back, when the telephone gal sticks her head outen the winder an' squeals: 'Git to the Cunnel's a-flyin', Jess they say Dale Dawson's done kilt Tusk Potter!" "That's all right," Dale said. "Keep yoh 'pinions to yohse'f till I ask for 'em!
The Cunnel's a-comin'." Both sides ran up their respective banks, snatched up their guns, took their places behind their trees, and opened a noisy but harmless fire. SHORTY had always been conspicuously lacking in the general interest which his comrades had shown in the mails.
"What a view! I had no idea there was such scenery anywhere around here!" "Yas'm, hits about de fines' sceneries in de world! You kin see from dem heights clean down to de bridge. All dis hill used to be our-alls. I 'member hearin' how Mr. Rogers Clark done gib it to de Cunnel's gran'paw fer a lan' grant when de Injuns libed here!" "Who owns it now? Who owns the hilltop?" "I don't know, mam.
"Take care of these. Bill," said he. Bill, for that was indeed his name, placed the bag and umbrella upon the gallery floor, and with the air of owning the place himself, invited the visitor to enter the Big House. "The Cunnel's not to home, suh," said Bill. "But you bettah come in and seddown. I'll go call the folks." "Never mind," said the visitor.
After having each tipped the bottle, Tusk announced: "I'm buhned out!" "You are?" Tom's voice held a note of alarm. "When?" "A week ago today." "How'd it happen?" "You know that feller over to Cunnel's?" "Reckon I do! Was it him?" Tusk nodded. Tom remained deep in thought, wondering how he might proceed without Nancy's knowledge. "He'll pay for it, all right," he said, at last.
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