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"I hain't never cared to say much about it to Polly," he remarked, "though fer that matter Jim Bixbee, f'm all accounts, was about as poor a shack as ever was turned out, I guess, an' "
'One-fifty, I says, 'an' he's a cheap hoss at the money'; but," added the speaker with a laugh, "I knowed I might 's well of said a thousan'. The deakin wa'n't buyin' no roan colts that mornin'." "What did he say?" asked Mrs. Bixbee. "'Wa'al, he says, 'wa'al, I guess you ought to git that much fer him, but I'm 'fraid he ain't what Mr.
Cullom looked from David to Mrs. Bixbee, whose face was suffused. "Tell her," said David, with a grin. "I wish you'd shet up," she exclaimed. "I sha'n't do nothin' of the sort." "Ne' mind," said David cheerfully, "I'll tell ye, Mis' Cullom." "Dave Harum!" expostulated Mrs. Bixbee, but he proceeded without heed of her protest.
"Wa'al," replied David, "mebbe he will an' mebbe he won't, but I don't see what else the' is for it, an' I guess 'twon't kill him for a spell The fact is " he was proceeding when Mrs. Bixbee interrupted him. "I guess we'd better adjourn t' the settin'-room an' let Sairy clear off the tea-things," she said, rising and going into the kitchen.
Harum. "Don't see why ye should anybody that c'n put up a tune the way you kin." "It's rather different," observed the younger man, "singing for you and Mrs. Bixbee and standing up before a lot of strange people."
An', says Dave, 'if any one was to ask you to figure out a pattern of the meanist human skunk you was capable of thinkin' of, wouldn't it honest, now! Dave says, 'honest, now wouldn't it be 's near like 'Lish Harum as one buckshot 's like another?" "My!" exclaimed Mrs. Cullom. "What did Mr. Smith say to that?" "Wa'al," replied Mrs. Bixbee, "he didn't say nuthin' at fust, not in so many words.
Bixbee, "ef you're goin' to discribe any more o' them scand'lous goin's on I sh'll take my victuals into the kitchin. I didn't see no more of 'em," she added to Mrs. Cullom and John, "after that fust trollop appeared."
She'd think it might, anyway." So David departed to see the colt, and John got out some of the books and busied himself with them until the time to present himself at David's house. "Why, Mis' Cullom, I'm real glad to see ye. Come right in," said Mrs. Bixbee as she drew the widow into the "wing settin' room," and proceeded to relieve her of her wraps and her bundle.
Bixbee occasionally surprised her brother with unexpected penetration, but she seldom got much recognition of it. "I see by the paper," he remarked, "that the' was a man died in Pheladelphy one day last week," which piece of barefaced irrelevancy elicited no notice from Mrs. Bixbee. "What more did he say?" she demanded. "Wa'al," responded Mr.
"Polly, this young man's ben livin' on crackers an' salt herrin' fer a week." "My land!" cried Mrs. Bixbee with an expression of horror. "Is that reelly so? 'T ain't now, reelly?" "Not quite so bad as that," John answered, smiling; "but Mrs. Elright has been ill for a couple of days and well, I have been foraging around Purse's store a little."
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