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Updated: May 9, 2025
And she micht hae gane on lauchin' to a' eternity for onything I cared. And ten times waur I wad whiles come upon her greitin' and repentin', and haudin' oot her han' to me, and me carin' no more for her than for the beard o' a barley-stalk. And I begud to hear a laich lauch far awa', and it cam' nearer and nearer ilka week, till it was ringin' i' my verra lug.
But I liked the way you fired 'em out of there, not carin' a tinker's darn who was behind 'em. So long as a man stands square in his boots and don't knuckle to anybody he won't lose anything with Jed Dean. That's me!" "You ought to like Colton, then," I said. "He hasn't knuckled, much." Captain Jed grinned. "Well," he said, slowly, "I don't object to that in him.
"P'raps 'twill help him somehow if he gets to carin' for that innocent baby, an' I don't mind his comin' here sometimes, only be careful that you don't learn any evil from him, my dear," and she leaned over and kissed the girl's cheek. "Oh, Mrs. Hunt, I must be good always, you know, for Little Brother's sake. I can't ever forget or break my promise to mother," Nan answered, earnestly. And Mrs.
I'm sure you can. I sha'n't care. He turned an' looked at me, as if I was crazed or he was himself, 'You won't care? he says. 'No, says I, 'I sha'n't care. I said it real easy, for 'twas true. Somehow, I'd got beyond carin'. My heart dropped blood, but I couldn't bear to have him in trouble. 'They al'ays told me I was cut out for an old maid," I says, 'an' I guess I be.
"'Gene don't keer much fur ye ter be alive nohow, Watt Wyatt," one of the others suggested tactlessly, "'count o' Minta Elladine Biggs." Eugene Barker's off-hand phrase was incongruous with his sudden gravity and his evident rancor as he declared: "I ain't carin' fur sech ez Watt Wyatt.
He frowned in a troubled way. "Ay," I repeated, convinced, "you may have my dear sister. I'm not afraid." "Davy," he said, now so grave that my heart jumped, "you give her to the man I am." "I'm not carin'," I replied, "what you was." "You do not know." Apprehension grappled with me. "I'm not wantin' t' know," I protested. "Come, zur," I pleaded, "leave us go home."
When at last he espied the scow fastened in its accustomed place, he went down to carry the news to the owner. After explaining the matter as far as it had gone, he ventured: "Lem, be ye carin' for Flea yet?" "Why?" demanded Lem suspiciously. "'Cause we can make some money outen her, if ye gives up yer claim on her." "Ye mean to sell her?" Lem's words sounded hoarse as he wheezed them out.
"Well, Cap," said he, "they's a heap o' things out in this here country that seems right hard till you git used to 'em. But what's the ust carin' 'bout a dead Injun here or there? They got to go, one at a time, or more in a bunch. But now, do you know what they just done with ole Mr. White Calf?
Anybody but him and his mother could see that; and now he's just melting away, as you might say. I ha'n't liked his not carin' to work plantchette since he got back; looked to me from the start that he kind of knowed that it wa'n't worth while for him to trouble about a world that he'll know all about so soon, anyways; and d' you notice he don't seem to care about Mars, either?
After you once get an idea into a man's head, it stays put. You can't never get it out again. And ideas that other people puts in is just the same." "Women change their minds more easily, don't they?" asked Allan. He was enjoying himself very much. "Of course. There's nothin' set about a woman unless she's got a busted back. She ain't carin' to move around much then.
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