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Updated: May 6, 2025
Conniston shook his head, suppressing a smile. "I don't think I have. Far out to his place?" "Oh, it ain't bad. Let's see. It's fifty mile to the hills, an' he's about forty mile fu'ther on." He stopped for a brief mental calculation. "That makes it about ninety mile, huh?" "How does a man get out there? A narrow-gauge running from somewhere along the main line?" "Darn narrow, stranger.
Fu'ther to all that, it's jus' the same ol' story. A feller an' a girl, an' the girl with a fine figger an' a fine pair of eyes which, bein' a she-girl, she knows how to use. Seein' as you ask the question, I guess I could answer it by jus' sayin' that the Temples are makin' the one move they'd be sure to make."
"Fall back, Major!" he shouted; "fall back on your front line and give the artillery a chanst at 'em. I reckon a dose o' broken pot-iron'll carry fu'ther than that saber o' yourn. Buddy, hunt me a punk match, quick, will ye?" Thomas Jefferson ran to the nearest rotting log, but one of the negroes was before him with a blazing pitch-pine splint.
"It's quite a way for cattle to stray," said the old man sharply. Blenham shrugged carelessly. "Oh, I dunno," he returned lightly. "I've knowed 'em to go fu'ther than that. Well, I made a pass to haze 'em on back this way an' young Packard blocks my play." The old man's eye brightened. "What did he say?" he asked eagerly.
"No, suh, de hoss didn' git skeered at nothin', but Mis' 'Livy did see somethin', er somebody; an' it wa'n't no fault er mine ner her'n neither, it goes fu'ther back, suh, fu'ther dan dis day er dis year. Does you 'member de time w'en my ole mist'ess, Mis' 'Livy upstairs's mammy, died? No? Well, you wuz prob'ly 'way ter school den, studyin' ter be a doctuh. But I'll tell you all erbout it.
Moody was fairly warmed, for once, out of his customary temper of mistrust and indecision. He spoke up promptly. "You kin stop here jess long's you like. We don' care where you come from, an' you need n't to go no fu'ther, less you wanter. But we ain't got no use for French names round here. Guess we 'll call him Fiddlin' Jack, hey, Sereny?
Well, you must 'a' been ti-ud!" Anna dropped a fervid word to Miranda that set their hostesses agape. "Now, good Lawd, child, ain't you in hahdship and dangeh enough? Not one o' you ain't goin' one step fu'ther this day. Do you want to git shot? Grant's men are a-marchin' into Bolton's Depot right now.
I cayn't go no fu'ther, Mr. March; I inglected to tell you I'se got a pow'ful lame foot." "Keep quiet," murmured John, "and come on. Only don't look down." The reply was a gasp of horror. "Oh! mussy me, you spoke too late! Wait jess a minute, Mr. March, I'll stan' up ag'in in a minute. I jess mus' set here a minute an' enjoy the view; it's gr-gran'! "Yass, seh. I'se a-comin', seh.
Ole Mars Dugal useter hab a brickya'd fu'ther up de branch I dunno as yer noticed it, fer it's all growed ober wid weeds an' grass. Mars Dugal said dis yer clay wouldn' make good brick, but I knowed better." I judged from the appearance of the clay that it was probably deficient in iron. It was of a yellowish-white tint and had a sort of greasy look.
Shortly afterwards they turned off from the main highway they had been pursuing, and struck into a narrower road to the left. "De main road," explained Wain, "goes on to Clinton, 'bout five miles er mo' away. Dis one we're turnin' inter now will take us to my place, which is 'bout three miles fu'ther on. We'll git dere now in an hour er so."
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