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She ain' never let de dawgs come in de 'oom, nohow, caze once she done feel Beulah rar 'er back at Spy. She's des stone blin', is ole miss, but I d'clar she kin smell pow'ful keen, an' 'taro' no use tryin' ter fool her wid one houn' er de hull pack. Lawd! Lawd! I wunner ef dat ar cat kin be layin' close over yonder at Sis Daphne's?"
"He never had split with me on that money he got for the numbers of this claim out of Jerry and that other crowd. So I follered him. Yesterday morning, you know, the land left over from locatin' them that had drawed claims was throwed open to anybody that wanted to file on it. "Well, the first man in the line was that old houn' that's layin' over there with his toes turnin' cold.
Near Sockna, or one and a half hour east, is Houn; and two hours north-east, is Wadan. The water of these two towns is brackish.
"Stop him!" commanded Grace sternly. "Stop him, I say! He will kill the man." "Serve the houn' right if the bear did. I'll larn 'em to mind their business, the sarpints! Henry!" A sharp rap over the bear's shoulder slowed the animal down. A second tap brought him to all fours, with his mistress's hand fastened in the hair of his head. "That'll do, Hen.
A colored stable-boy stood at Fan Tan's wicked-looking head and addressed in varied tone and temper a pair of flattened ears. "Whoa! Baby-doll! Dat's ma honey dat's ma petty chile . . . Whoa! Yuh no-'coun' houn', yuh!"
"One minute, gentlemen," said Mr. Kirby, rising from the table and gathering his papers and records together. "Just one more thing: If anybody here has any evidence, or knows of any, tendin' to show that this boy Davy Allen is not the proper person to turn over a houn' dog to, I hope he will speak up." He waited a moment.
Thornycroft, judgin' by the looks of that houn', you ain't give him enough to eat to keep a cat alive an' a cat, we all know, don't eat much, just messes over her vittles. You condemned that po' beast, for no fault of his own, to the life of a felon. A houn' ain't happy at best, he's melancholy; an' a houn' that ain't allowed to run free is of all critters the wretchedest.
"That's the kind of a low-down cuss you always was. This man's our guest, and when you pull a knife on him you pull it on me!" "You know I ain't got a gun on me, you " "Git it, you sneakin' houn'!" Jim looked round for Taterleg. "Where's my gun? you greasy potslinger!" "Give it to him, whoever's got it." Taterleg produced it.
It was the sturdy individual who had burst into a wail at Clare's funeral, his hair still bristling against a formal application of soap. "C'm on in, doggy," he called; "c'm in, Ginral. I wisht I had a doggy like that," he hung on his mother's knees lamenting the absence from their household of a General Jackson. "Our ol' houn' dog's nothing," he asserted.
There was an air of repressed but pleasurable expectation about the little "houn' dogs," as they patiently waited for their signal to go. Their racing manners were absolutely above reproach.
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