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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Let's look around out there in the bushes," Jack suggested. "I can see how the thing must have happened; somebody came and started shooting and that rifle he called Jemina, and the two pistols don't you reckon they did some good for themselves?" "Probably if Jerry was here." "Man, he must have been here! Who else " he tilted his head towards the graves.
The man from the settlements thanked her and strode off. He was fairly vibrant with youth and personality. As he walked along he whistled and sang and turned handsprings and flapjacks, breathing in the fresh, cool air of the mountains. The air around the still was like wine. Jemina Tantrum watched him entranced. No one like him had ever come into her life before.
Sometimes, with automatic inherited hatred, the feudists would throw whiskey at each other, and Jemina would come home smelling like a French table d'hôte. But now Jemina was too thoughtful to look across the stream. How wonderful the stranger had been and how oddly he was dressed!
A week later the Tantrums had put Cod Liver Oil in the Doldrums' still, and so, from year to year, the feud had continued, first one family being entirely wiped out, then the other. Every day little Jemina worked the still on her side of the stream, and Boscoe Doldrum worked the still on his side.
"Hi, thar, Boscoe Doldrum," she shouted in her deep bass voice. "Yo! Jemina Tantrum. Gosh ding yo'!" he returned. She continued her way to the cabin. The stranger was talking to her father. Gold had been discovered on the Tantrum land, and the stranger, Edgar Edison, was trying to buy the land for a song. He was considering what song to offer. She sat upon her hands and watched him.
A master shot had disabled one Doldrum, and another Doldrum, shot almost incessantly through the abdomen, fought feebly on. Nearer and nearer they approached the house. "We must fly," shouted the stranger to Jemina. "I will sacrifice myself and bear you away." "No," shouted Pappy Tantrum, his face begrimed. "You stay here and fit on. I will bar Jemina away. I will bar Mappy away.
And I'll thank you another time, Cousin Higginbotham, not to put me out when I'm speaking on matters of importance; poking your cat into my stocks! They look something like now, my stocks, don't they, Harry? I declare that the whole village seems more respectable. It is astonishing how much a little improvement adds to the to the " "Charm of the landscape," put in Miss Jemina, sentimentally.
Still it was a kind of language between us. It couldn't be? No, Gerty they called her. Might be false name however like my name and the address Dolphin's barn a blind. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she lived with her mother in Irishtown. Place made me think of that I suppose. All tarred with the same brush Wiping pens in their stockings. But the ball rolled down to her as if it understood.
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