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"Their'n gins a gallon a milkin'," she said, in rueful comparison. As she came up the slope with the piggin on her head, her husband was looking down from the porch with a lowering brow. "Why n't ye spen' the day a-milkin' the cow?" he drawled. "Dawdlin' yander in the cow-pen till this time in the mornin'! An' ter-morrer's Chrismus!" The word smote upon her weary heart with a dull pain.
"Clane out some of their dirty ould drains, I'm thinkin'." Then he spoke of Martin, whom he had seen off, saying he would surely come back. "'Deed he will though. A boy like yander wasn't born to lave his bark in the ice and snow . . . Not if his anchor's at home, anyway" with a "glime" in my direction. How the glen sang to me that morning!
"Plague take the bee I mean the honey don't you like wild honey?" continued Sneak. "Yes," said Joe; "but how can you find any when there's such a snow as this on the ground?" "When there's a snow, that's the time to find 'em," said Sneak; "peticuly when the sun shines warm. Jest come out here and look," he continued, stepping along, and followed by Joe; "don't you see yander big stooping limb?"
'No nigger damnation! Anybody'd 'low dey wuz all gwine ter heaven; but I knows better! W'en a passel er w'ite folks gits ter talkin' 'bout de niggers lack dem in yander, it's mo' lackly dey're gwine ter ketch somethin' e'se dan heaven!
He was about to ride on, disdaining to heed him, when something in the boy's honest face struck his attention. "'Are you dreaming? he cried. "'No, I ain't! retorted Davis, deeply offended. "'Where did he go then? demanded Haig. "'Yander, answered 'Red. "Haig was incredulous. "'It's the truth! protested the boy. And then he told Haig what he had seen. "'But how in hell Haig began.
"Arl in white as a ghaist should be," answered the ghost-seer, with a confidence beyond his years. "And where was it?" "Away yander, in t' kirkyard where a ghaist ought to be." "As a 'ghaist' should be where a 'ghaist' ought to be why, you little fool, you talk as if the manners and customs of ghosts had been familiar to you from your infancy!
An' I've got an old-fashioned, single-barrel, cap-and-ball pistol that uster belong to a Starbuck." "Yes, and a way back yander it killed a Peters, I've hearn." "Yes, Starbuck, with a three-inch slug. But that's nuther here nur thar, jest now. I'm willin' to furgit the past." Starbuck gave him a knife-thrust glance, and replied: "When a Peters says he is, it's ten to one he ain't."
"I 'ain't teched nary drop, Sissy," Mr. Cullum returned, "but ever' time I think about that fool Bud Mines a-settin' out yander at Buck Snort, holdin' of a candle, and whisslin' fer snipe to run into that coffee-sack, I oh Lord!" He stopped to slap his thighs and roar again. Finally, wiping the tears of enjoyment from his eyes, he related the story of the night's adventure.
"They ain't to be found around Four Winds, only in the barrens away behind the Glen up yander. I took a little trip today to the Land-of-nothing-to-do, and hunted these up for you. I reckon they're the last you'll see this spring, for they're nearly done." "How kind and thoughtful you are, Captain Jim.
"It was thrue, thin, William Connor?" repeated Coolin. "As thrue as that yander tripod pump kills wan man out uv ivery fifty. As thrue as that y'r corn-beef from y'r commysariat tins gives William Connor thirst, Coolin." "She was drownded, Connor?" asked Coolin in a whisper. "As I dramed it, an' allowin' fer difference uv time, at the very hour, Coolin.
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