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"She won't come, an' I won't foller, Heh-o-dee-um-dee-eedy-dahdy-dee!" Well, sir, Nance seed that Polly Ann was a-eyin' Jeb sort o' flustered like, an' she come might' nigh splittin' right thar an' a-sp'ilin' the fun, fer she knowed what a skeery fool Jeb was.
"Chickens a-crowin' on Sour-wood Mountain, Heh-o-dee-um-dee-eedy-dahdy-dee! Git yo' dawgs an' we'll go huntin', Heh-o-dee-um-dee-eedy-dahdy-dee!" An' when Jeb comes to "I've got a gal at the head o' the holler, Heh-o-dee-um-dee-eedy-dahdy-dee!" he jes turns one eye 'round on Polly Ann, an' then swings his chin aroun' as though he didn't give a cuss fer nothin'.
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