Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 12, 2025
The latter, quite frenzied by the accumulation of horrors heaped upon him, bounced frantically from beneath her indiscreet petticoats, and dashed himself from one side of the pen to the other with a violence that threatened to wreck both pig and pen. Somewhat breathless, but proudly conscious that she had won a splendid victory, Mrs. Gammit picked herself up and shook herself together.
Her feelings thus a little relieved, she examined Red Top-knot's leg with care. It was hopelessly shattered and mangled. "Ye cain't never scratch with that ag'in, ye cain't!" muttered Mrs. Gammit, compassionately. "Poor dear, ther ain't nawthin' fer it but to make vittles of ye now! Too bad! Too bad! Ye was always sech a fine layer an' a right smart setter!"
But this bear in particular had learned that when men started out to be disagreeable to bears, they succeeded only too well. He had realized clearly that Mrs. Gammit had intended to be disagreeable to him. There was no mistaking her intentions. But she had not succeeded. Ergo, she was not, as he had almost feared, a man, but really and truly a woman.
Seemingly quite indifferent to her vehement existence, and engrossed in its own affairs, it was crawling out upon a high branch and gnawing, in a casual way, at the young twigs as it went. "Ah, ha! What did I tell ye? I knowed all along as how it was a porkypine!" exclaimed Mrs. Gammit, triumphantly, as if Joe Barron could hear her across eight miles of woods.
"Whatever it be, it'll be there when I git there!" she muttered philosophically; and kept on to the cool cellar with her milk. But as soon as she had deposited the pail she turned and fairly ran in her eagerness. The speckled hen was cackling vain-gloriously; and as Mrs. Gammit passed the row of nests in the shed she saw a white egg shining. But she did not stop to secure it.
Gammit, that's enough," agreed the woodsman, civilly. "But the other is all right, eh? What did they ketch?" "Well, they ketched a big weasel!" said Mrs. Gammit, eyeing him with challenge. A broad smile went over Barron's face. "I knowed it," he exclaimed. "I knowed as how it was a weasel." "An' I knowed as how ye'd say jest them very words," retorted Mrs. Gammit.
"An' anyways, a porkypine don't eat aigs. He hain't got the right kind o' teeth fer them kind o' vittles. He's got to have something he kin gnaw on, somethin' substantial an' solid the which he prefers a young branch o' good tough spruce, though it do make his meat kinder strong. No, Mrs. Gammit, it ain't no porkypine what's stealin' yer aigs, take my word fer it.
Gammit slid her right hand, armed with the pepper-pot, over the edge of the window-sill. The porcupines, enraptured with the flavour of the herring-tub, never looked up. Mrs. Gammit was just about to turn the pepper-pot over, when she saw a third dim shape approaching, and stayed her hand. It was bigger than a porcupine. She kept very still, breathing noiselessly through parted lips.
When he returned with the gun an old, muzzle-loading duck-gun, with a huge bore she accepted it with careless ease and held it as if it were a broom. But when he offered her the powder-horn and a little bag of buckshot, she hesitated. "What be them for?" she inquired. Joe Barren looked serious. "Mrs. Gammit," said he, "I know you kin do most anything a man kin do an' do it better, maybe!
And carrying the victim to the block on which she was wont to split kindling wood, she gently but firmly chopped her head off. Half an hour later, as Mrs. Gammit returned from the pasture with a brimming pail of milk, again she heard a commotion under the barn. But she would not hurry, lest she should spill the milk.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking