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"I don't know who could have taken it," Mrs. Jucklin went on. "It couldn't have walked off, I'm sure. Limuel?" "Yes, ma'm." "Do you know what has become of that old curtain?" "What, that ragged old thing that wan't worth nothin'?" "Worth nothin'! Why, it belonged to my grandmother." "I never heard of that before." "Oh, yes, you have, and what's the use of talkin' that way?
I jest know he's crippled. Limuel, are you hurt?" she cried. "Yes, I am hurt, and by a man that prefers to be a crank. Said that he wouldn't care anything about 'em even if it was daylight." "Oh, but you are not shot, are you?" his wife exclaimed, starting toward him. "Go in now, Susan, and don't come foolin' with me. Who said I was shot? Go on to bed, everybody, and I'll come when I git ready."
"Well, it's the first time I ever heard of it." "Now, Limuel, why do you want to act that way? A body would think that you don't know anything about your own family." "Never heard of it before," said the old man. "You are surely the most provokin' man I ever saw, Limuel. You know the very day we named the child, and now you pretend " "Pretend?
"Limuel, why will you always humiliate me?" his wife asked, placing a chair for him. "Humiliate you! Bless your life, I wouldn't humiliate you. The only trouble is that you are tryin' to make me fit a garment you've got, ruther than to make the garment fit me. I ain't doin' no harm, Susan, and it's my way, and you can't very well knock the spots off'en a leopard nur skin an Etheopian.
"You said something about it, Susan; I have forgot exactly what it was. It's all right if the judge says he knows it. Yes, sir, it's all right. But we'll leave here all the same. Don't reckon we'll ever come back; can't stand to be p'inted at. Fight a man in a minit if he p'ints at me." "Oh, Limuel, don't talk about fighting when we are in so much trouble."
"Oh, Limuel," his wife protested; "a body to hear you talk would think that you don't do anything at all but thirst for blood. If the Lord puts it in the mind of a steer to kick you, why, it ain't the poor creeter's fault." The old man snorted. "And if the Lord puts it in my mind to kill the steer it ain't my fault, muther.
She was the kindest and sweetest thing you ever saw, but when the feller got up finally and got strong enough to go about, blamed if she didn't jump on him every time he come in sight." "Now, Limuel, you know you are makin' up every word of that." "It's the truth, I tell you knowed the man well." "Well, who was he?" "Oh, he lived away over yonder on the branch, out of your range."
"But you must be hungry, Limuel?" "Hungry, the devil excuse me, ma'm. I'll eat a snack mebby between now and mornin'." "It's no use to talk to him," she said, with a sigh, and, turning to me, she added: "You and Alf must be nearly starved. We've kept the coffee warm. Guinea, go and pour it out for 'em." "Will you tell me all about the fight?" the girl asked when we entered the dining-room.
Go on to bed, Susan, for if you don't I'm afeered that I'll have to say somethin' to hurt your feelin's, and then I'd worry about it all night." "Now Limuel, what is the use in snortin' round that way? Can't a body say a word?" "It do look like a body can," he rejoined; "and I'm afeered that a body will, and that's the reason I want you to go to bed." Old Lim sat down and the subject was dropped.
Parker said that it was time for him to go, and, adding that he would meet Jucklin in town, left us at the door. Mrs. Jucklin was brighter than I had expected to find her, and when I told her what Conkwright had said, that Alf would surely be acquitted, the light of a new hope leaped into her eyes. "I told Limuel that God would not permit such a wrong," she said. "Didn't I, Limuel?"
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