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Over the face of each dangled a bit of homespun, with great empty sockets through which eyes vaguely glanced. Even the coarse fibre of the intruders responded to that quavering, thrilling appeal. One spoke instantly: "Laws-a-massy! Mis' Pearce, don't ye feel interrupted none nor Mis' Gryce nuther. We-uns ain't harmful noways jes want ter know whar that thar black mare hev disappeared to.
She repaired this oversight with a deft touch, and then proceeded: "We-uns ain't got no short-sweetenin' at our house, but I'll send my leetle brother ter fetch some long-sweetenin' fer yer coffee ter night.
Go on girlie, pitch in, we-uns would like to hear from the likes of you, cause we know you," etc. The precious girl! How she enthused all of us as she told the wonderful story and implored them to seek the Savior! Always we finished with prayer. Even bar-tenders, saloon-keepers, and women overseers over the girls in the various dives were touched by Lucy's brief messages from God.
Her courage was flagging; her hope had fled. The eyes of the man's wife burned upon her face. "We-uns useter be toler'ble well 'quainted 'fore he ever seen ye, an' I 'lowed he'd b'lieve my word," Eugenia continued. Another silence.
The law wunt let us have liquor shipped to us from anywhars in the State. If we git it sent to us from outside the State it has to come by express and reg-lar old pop-skull it is, too. So, to be good law-abiding citizens, we-uns must travel back and forth at a heap of expense, or pay express rates on pizened liquor and we are too durned poor to do ary one or t'other. "Now, yan's my field o' corn.
The use of "hit" for "it" is not confined to the mountains, but the Old English grammars give "hit" as the neuter of the pronoun "he." "Uns," too, had once a grammatical sanction, for "uon" or "un" was the Early English for "one," and "uns" was more than the one. In many parts of the South are found the expressions, "you-uns" and "we-uns."
Hit's as fair for one as 'tis for t'other. When a revenuer comes sneakin' around, why, whut he gits, or whut we-uns gits, that's a 'fortune of war, as the old sayin' is." There is no telegraph, wired or wireless, in the mountains, but there is an efficient substitute.
This was an unnecessarily unkind speech, and Birt's anger flamed out. "Ef we-uns war of a size, Andy Byers," he said, hotly, "I'd make ye divide work a leetle more ekal than ye does." Andy Byers dropped the hide in his hands, and looked steadily across the pit at Birt, as if he were taking the boy's measure. "Ye mean ter say ef ye hed the bone an' muscle ye'd knock me down, do ye?" he sneered.
"Cap'n Cap'n bear with us we-uns don't know!" Ackert stared in snorting amaze, a flush of anger dyeing his red cheeks a yet deeper red. Of all the subterfuges that he had expected, he had never divined this.
We will jes' leave him hyar in the road, an' the folks that find what's down thar in the valley will find him too. I wonder somebody ain't passed a'ready. An' sure we-uns oughter be a-travellin'." But Holvey revolted against this offhand assumption of confidence. He made a supplemental effort on his own account. "Why don't ye tell yer name, Bubby?" he asked cajolingly.
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