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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Here," he went on, "this is how she says of them kids: 'You can't jest lay down reg'lations fer feedin'. Jest feed 'em natural, an' if they git a pain dose 'em with physic. Ther's some things you must kep 'em from gittin' into their stummicks. Kindlin' wood is ridiculous fer them to chew, ther' ain't no goodness in it, an' it's li'ble to run slivvers into their vitals.
Ef Sonny had 'a' fell an' hurted hisself, though, in that chimbly, I'd 'a' helt that teacher responsible, shore. Sonny says hisself thet the only thing he feels bad about in that chimbly business is thet one o' the little swallers' wings was broke by the fall. Sonny's got him yet, an' he's li'ble to keep him, cause he'll never fly.
Ther's Injuns out most every night, an' they are lyin' this side o' the fort. They're all about it, an' them soldier-fellers ain't wise to it. What's more we darsen't to put 'em wise. They're li'ble to butt right in, an' then ther' won't be any stoppin' them pesky redskins. Y' see ther's only a handful at the fort, an' the Injuns could eat 'em."
He fully understood that he was dealing with just a plain, honest man, otherwise he would have kept silence. "Wal, I guess ther' ain't a deal to tell." The little man looked straight ahead toward the dark streak which marked the drop from the prairie land to the bed of the Mosquito River. "Still, it's li'ble to come along right smart." The man's suggestion puzzled Tresler, but he waited.
"Take your time," he had said, in his easy, cordial fashion. "Ther' ain't no sort o' hurry. It's li'ble to shake a boy o' your years foolin' around in the dust when you'd oughter be in the saddle." "That's just it, Mr. McFarlane," came the prompt, distressed complaint. "What in the nature o' blamed things made me act that way?" "Jest the nature o' things, I guess." The little man's eyes twinkled.
It'll cost us a piece, but it's the way to fix things. And anyway it's going to be worth it, sure. I allow we'll need to hand out the story of reward good. It's got to reach this gang itself. An' if I guess right, and there's toughs from Orrville way running this lay-out, why, they aren't li'ble to have forgotten what happened that time. We'll break the gang, or we'll get 'em."
We ought to be sitting right here talking it over, and laughing to beat the band, that I had to treat you like a dangerous bunch of goods li'ble to get me by the throat, and choke the life out of me, while you were chasing every old notion folks could stuff into your dandy head to set me broke and busted so I wouldn't know where to collect a square feed once a week.
It was Bud's voice which broke the silence that followed. "Guess the work's pretty tough," he said. "You don't need to fergit you bin a mighty sick man. If you do, why, you'll be li'ble to find yourself on Nan's hands again." "I couldn't wish for better." The reply had come on the instant. It must have warned even Bud that he had found a key to the man's abstraction. "That's so sure."
"Better hitch your engine," suggested one of the group. "She's li'ble to take to the woods and climb a tree when she hears old Gid. And you can hear him a good way off, now I can tell you." The postmaster knuckled his chin humorously. "Wal, you'll hear him 'bout the same time you see him.
He live hyeah in Noo Yo'k, an' dey tell me whaih I 'quiahed dat I li'ble to fin' somebody hyeah dat know him. So I jes' drapped in." "I know a good many young men from the South. What's your son's name?" "Well, he named aftah my ol' mastah, Zachariah Priestley Shackelford."
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