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He turned weakly, to behold Pierre propped in a chair by the stove, frost-scarred and pale, but aggressive even in recuperation. He gesticulated fiercely with a bandaged hand, hot in controversy with some big-limbed, bearded strangers. "Bah! You fellers no good too beeg in the ches', too leetle in the forehead. She'll tak' the heducate mans for stan' the 'ardsheep lak' me an' Meestaire Weelard."
"Just as easy to switch cinches as it is drinks, ain't it, Bat?" grinned Tex. "Ba Goss! Heem look lak' Circle J boun' for be wan man short," replied the half-breed, and the girl, upon whom not a word nor a move had been lost, noticed that Purdy's jaw tightened as the Texan laughed at the apparently irrelevant remark.
"Yas, I tank I going yust de sam your way." The young man set the pace more rapidly, and for a time they walked on in silence. At last, "Live here?" he asked. "Yas, I lif here." "Been here long?" "In America? Yes. I guess five sax year. Oh, I lak it goot." "I mean here, in this place." "Oh, here? Yas, two, t'ree year. I lak it goot too." "Know any one here?" "Oh, yas. I know people I vork by yet."
No, I ain't tellin' what I paid. Not to anybody. But after sayin' what I had I couldn't back out without feelin' like a piker. And when Joe says confidential how he's knockin' off ten at that I writes out the check more or less cheerful. "Ought to be good blood in him, at that figure," I suggests. "Heem!" says Joe. "He got pedigree long lak your arm.
I feel lak' I done sol' my child. I cannot go at l'opera no mo', I t'ink of mon violon. I starve befo' I live widout. My heart, he is broke, I die for mon violon." Courcey left the room and returned with the instrument. "M'sieu Fortier," he said, bowing low, as he handed the case to the little man, "take your violin; it was a whim with me, a passion with you.
"Culpeper County!" ejaculated Rogers, bringing his chair to a level with a bang and planting a hand on each knee. "Why, thet's my county, an' thar ain't another lak it on the livin' airth. Cynthy Ann," he called, striding to the back door, "you an' Dink skeer up somethin' extry fur suppah, can't you? This young feller's frum Culpeper County.
Malde hight that mayden, many of her spak, Fair scho was, thei saiden, and gode withouten lak. * Henry wedded dame Molde, that king was and sire, Saynt Anselme men tolde corouned him and hire. The corounyng of Henry and of Malde that may, At London was solemply on St. Martyn's day.
"Aunt Dilsey," he ventured, speaking over his shoulder, with his face averted from her, "mebbe you been noticin' yere lately I seemed kind of downcasted an' shiftless, lak ez ef I had a mood on me?" "Has I noticed it?" she repeated "huh!" The punctuating grunt was non-committal. It might mean nothing; it might mean anything. He cleared his throat and went on,
De way dem gals shows demse'ves is right down bad to me. Is you goin' to dress lak dem we seen dat night?" Kit hung her head. "I guess I 'll have to." "Well, ef you have to, I 'd ruther see you daid any day. Oh, Kit, my little gal, don't do it, don't do it. Don't you go down lak yo' brothah Joe. Joe 's gone." "Why, ma, you don't understand. Joe 's somebody now.
Ah dunno as Ah evah see a hoss mo' took by 'stonishment dan he wuz when Ah step brisk-like into his stall an' sez 'Doggone yo', Brandy Boy, don't yo' know de sun's gwine to be up in less'n two hours? Wha' fo' is yo' keepin' me an' Marse Kenneth waitin' lak dis? Git ep dar, yo' lazy, good-fer-nuffin, " "And what did Brandy Boy say in response to that?" broke in his master, airily. "How dat, suh?"
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