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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Well, no, she wasn't," Reverdy began, and Braile asked: "And did you wake her up and tell her about it?" "Well, no, I didn't, Squire, that's a fact. She woke me up. I just crep' in quiet and felt out the soft side of a puncheon for a nap, and the firs' thing I know was Sally havin' me by the shoulder, and wantun' to know about gittun' that corn groun' for breakfas'. My!
"Don't, Squire Braile!" Dylks implored in a hoarse undertone. "They're after me, and if anybody heard you " "Well, come up here," the Squire bade him. Dylks hobbled slowly forward, and painfully mounted the log steps to the porch, where Braile surveyed him in detail, frowning and twitching his long feathery eyebrows. "I know I don't look fit to be seen," Dylks began "but "
She looked defiantly round on the unbelievers who so far joined in the Squire's grin as to burst into a general laugh, and a cry of "Good for you, Sally. You're about right." Braile referred himself to Redfield, who mounted to the porch with the other guards, and the tattered and bedraggled Dylks in their midst. "What are you doing with this man, Jim?"
Braile took his pipe out and cackled toothlessly. "I'm almost afraid to think, Abel. Something awful, though. You say Sally told you?" "Yes." "I should think Sally would know what he meant, if anybody." He looked at Abel, and Sally's husband joined him in safe derision. "Tell you anything else?" "Well, no, not just in so many words.
Not very long, though. They died within a week of each other, about. Didn't they, mother?" "Just a week," Mrs. Braile said, animated by the human touch in the discussion. "They lived mighty happy together, and it was as good a death as a body could want to die. It was that summer when the fever mowed the people down so.
He liked the joke so well that the hurt of it could hardly keep him from laughing as he thumped his mare's ribs with his naked heels and bade her get up. She fetched a deep sigh, but she did not move. "Better light," Braile said; "you wouldn't get that corn ground in time for breakfast, now."
I'll rap my stick on the floor." He also called out, "Hello, the house!" and Sally herself came to the kitchen door. She burst into her large laugh. "Well, I declare to goodness, if it ain't Abel and the Squire! Well, if this ain't the best joke on me! Did you see Dylks off, Squire Braile? And a good riddance to bad rubbage, I say."
"Well, I reckon if you was up as early as Mis' Braile, you'd know it was broad day. No, I hain't come to borry anything exactly, but I was just tellin' her that if she'd lend me a fryun' of bacon, I'd do as much for her some day. She ast me to tell you your breakfast was ready and not to wait till your comp'ny was gone, but bring anybody you got with you."
"I am Matthew Braile," the old man said with dignity, and the stranger returned with a certain apology in his laugh: "I must confess that I suspected as much, and I'm ashamed not to have frankly asked at once." "Better 'light," the Squire condoned whatever offense there might have been in the uncandor.
And that isn't the worst of it. This new deity isn't going to be satisfied with worship merely. Money, of course, he'll want and get, and he'll wear purple and fine linen, and feed upon fried chicken every day. Still the superstition might die out, and no great harm done, if the faith was confined to men. But you know what women are, Martha." "They're what men make 'em," Mrs. Braile said sadly.
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