"Jud he hardly dasts to show up on Sunday, but when he does, she won't look at him fer quite a while. Then some o' that strawbary-blonde in her comes out in some o' the dernedest scoldin' yeh ever heer'd. "'It's too bad, Jessie, says he, 'but it ain't my fault. I done my best. He backed out at the las' minute; he backed out, an' I couldn't do no more than if a tree dropped on me. He backed out.
It was the dernedest mess! I picked up somethin' Jess said was a pedal, a little piece o' shiny iron about as long as that, 'n' that was the only thing that seemed to have any shape left to it. The litter didn't make any pile at all jest a lot o' siftin' sawdust-stuff scattered aroun' on the rocks. "'She struck tol'able hard, says I, lookin' at Jud.