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Updated: May 14, 2025
"They're pretty critters," said the old woman, running her eyes over the three horses. "Be they Mister Ward's?" "We all be Mister Ward's," answered Ump, screwing his mouth to one side and imitating the old carpet-weaver's voice. "Bless my life," said the old woman, looking us up and down, "Mister Ward has a fine chance of scalawags." We laughed and the old woman's face wrinkled into smiles.
Jud grasped the pole and lowered the bucket into the well, and then, while one watched by the door, the others watered the horses in the old carpet-weaver's bucket. It was the only thing to drink from, and if Aunt Peggy had caught us with the "critters'" noses in it we should doubtless have come in for a large share of that "dressing down" which she was reserving for Lemuel Marks.
The sunlight poured in and I was back in the road by the old carpet-weaver's cottage. The old woman was alarmed, but her curiosity held like a cable. "What's he sayin'," she piped; "what's he sayin'?" "That it's all a lie, Aunt Peggy," replied Jud. She turned her squint eyes on him. "Who told you so?" she said. "Who told you?" growled Ump. "Them as knows," she said.
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