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But come 'long spring and time for droppin' de cottin seed, de Mocker he know mighty well what's a-doin'. 'Long in March he comes inter de bushes and orange scrub round de field a-makin' a fuss and tellin' folks to git along to work, or dere won't be no cottin, and he keep it straight up all de day long till cottin's out o' bloom.
"Don't you do that! A man can't stand a woman tagging at his heels. He's got to have room, and air to breathe." "Smoke, you mean," put in Katrina, with returning spirit, "and I warn you, Grandfather, that if you make fires off our place, you'll be arrested." "Pooh! Fires!" said Mr. McBride contemptuously. "Amusement for children. I ain't a-makin' fires these days, Katriny.
"What's this I hear, Tharon?" asked Service, "about you a-makin' threats?" "What have you heard?" she wanted to know. "W'y, that you're a-makin' threats." "Yes?" "Yes, sir." "Well?" The sheriff flushed darker.
Another coincidence I have written on the fly-leaf the very verse I just quoted: "It's the songs ye sing, and the smiles ye wear That's a-makin' the sunshine everywhere!" "And ain't the fly's leaf dec'rations cute!"
'You're allus a-takin' intrust in the Gorgios, and yet you're allus a-makin' believe as you hate 'em. 'You say Winifred Wynne is back again? I cried in an eager voice. 'That's jist what I did say, and I ain't deaf, my rei.
"Well, it look like He'd jest hafter work on Sunday, He's so busy jest a-makin' babies. He makes all the niggers an' heathens an' Injuns an' white chillens; I reckon He gits somebody to help him. Don't you, Aunt Minerva?" Billy was sitting in the swing. Jimmy crawled over the fence and joined him.
"'Cause of what Auntie Sue's done for you-all, a-nursin' you when you was plumb crazy an' plumb dangerous from licker, an' a lyin' like she did ter the Sheriff an' that there deteckertive man," returned Judy stoutly; "an' 'cause she's so old an' is a-needin' you-all ter help her; an' 'cause she is a-lovin' you like she does, an' is a-wantin' you-all ter stay so bad hit's mighty nigh a-makin' her plumb sick."
"It's everything that makes Pangymonum," Jimmy Phoebus explained; "that old woman, Patty Cannon, has spent the whole of a wicked life, by smoke! or ever sence she came to Delaware from Cannady, as the bride of pore Alonzo Cannon a-makin' robbers an' bloodhounds out of the young men she could git hold of.
"Aunt Minerva is a-makin' me some nightshirts an' she ain't takin' no notice of nothin' else." They tiptoed stealthily around the house to the back-yard, but found the hen-house door locked. "Can't you get the key?" asked the younger child. "Naw, I can't," replied the other boy, "but you can git in th'oo this-here little hole what the chickens goes in at, whiles I watches fer Aunt Minerva.
Stranger, that long preacher talked jes as easy as I'm a-talkin' now, an' hit was p'int-blank as the feller from Hazlan said. You jes ought 'a' heerd him tellin' about the Lawd a-bein' as pore as any feller thar, an' a-makin' barns an' fences an' ox-yokes an' sech like; an' not a-bein' able to write his own name havin' to make his mark mebbe when he started out to save the world.
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