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Updated: May 27, 2025
"That old critter'll be cruisin' over here six nights out of five from now on to tell Al just how to spin those yarns of his. And he'll talk and talk and talk. Ain't it astonishin' how such a feeble-lookin' craft as he is can keep blowin' off steam that way and still be able to navigate." His wife took him to task.
He's got some o' the little girls at school that nervous thet if he thess shakes his little sleeve at 'em they'll squeal, not knowin' what sort o' live critter'll jump out of it. Most of his pets is things he's got by their bein' hurted some way. One of his toad-frogs is blind of a eye.
"We'll need it fer drink." "What're you going to do?" she asked, hastening to obey. Her voice was lowered apprehensively. He was wrapping some clothes over his shoes. "Butcher Simon," he said curtly. Her face became a white spot in the gloom. "Critter'll be tough, like's not," went on her father. "But y' c'n poun' th' meat." After a long wait, she spoke.
There you be," he continued, "stuck up four five feet up in the air like a clo'espin, havin' your backbone chucked up into your skull, an' takin' the skin off in spots an' places, expectin' ev'ry next minute the critter'll git out f'm under ye no, sir," he protested, "if it come to be that it was either to ride a hossback fer the fun o' the thing or have somebody kick me, an' kick me hard, I'd say, 'Kick away. It comes to the same thing fur 's enjoyment goes, and it's a dum sight safer."
Nobody knows how Rose managed to put up with her so long. But she has had to go at last. Goodness knows what the poor critter'll do. She hasn't a cent nor a relation she was just an orphan girl that Palmer brought up. She is at Rawlingses now. Maybe when Min cools off, she'll let her go back but it's doubtful. Min hates her like p'isen." To Telford this was all very unintelligible.
Uncle Cash was in despair, fuming and fretting the more because of his own crippled hand. "Hitch up, Bill," he said, "and, Hannah, you drive over to Milliken's Mills for the horse-doctor. I know we can git out that turnip if we can hit on the right tools and somebody to manage em right; but we've got to be quick about it or the critter'll choke to death, sure!
You'll have to stop with me till morning, but you and the critter'll have to be hid in the bresh, kase Thompson's men aint gone away yet." Here was one point settled, and it wasn't settled to the boy's satisfaction, either.
He paused only to knock Rufe's hat over his eyes, as the small boy stood in front of the low-spirited mule, both hands busy with the animal's mouth, striving to open his jaws to judge by his teeth how old he might be. "The critter'll bite ye, Rufe!" Birt exclaimed, for as Rufe stooped to pick up his hat the mule showed some curiosity in his turn, and was snuffling at Rufe's hay-colored hair.
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