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His half-uncle, Gineral Johnson, of Awkinso, was a torkey-killer of high celebrity. He was a Deshay on his Maw's side. I s'pose you haven't the torkey in the Dutch country, Mr. Reybold?" "Madame," said Reybold, in a quieter moment, "have you written to the Judge the fact of his son's death?" "Oh, yes to Fawquear." "Mrs. Basil," continued the Congressman, "I want you to be explicit with me.
And wasn't your father's name Philip and your mother's name Katherine Dwyer O'Day?" "To the best of my recollection that's partly so, too, suh. They both of 'em up and died when I was a baby, long before I could remember anything a-tall. But they always told me my paw's name was Phil, or Philip. Only my maw's name wasn't Kath Kath wasn't whut you jest now called it, Judge. It was plain Kate."
They had hard crackers and with these, and drinking the coffee from the kettle itself, when it was cool enough, the two boys feasted like monarchs. "By Jo!" exclaimed Henry. "This beats maw's soda biscuit and fat meat gravy!" But as he ate, Hiram's gaze traveled again and again across the scrub-grown meadow. The lay of the land pleased him.
If you hadn't jumped into the water after that other girl I'd never have suspicioned you was here, Bessie. You stay right with these young ladies, if they'll have you. I'll not say a word. An' if you ever get into trouble, you write to me see?" He looked at her, and sighed. Then he beckoned to her, and took her aside. "Maw's right set on havin' her own way, Bessie," he said.
Say nev' did know if WAS a name fer him 'tall. So I'z spen' the evenin' at 'at lady's house, Fanny, what used to be cook fer Miz Johnson, nex' do' you' maw's; an' I ast Fanny what am I go'n' a do about it, an' Fanny say, 'Call him Clematis, she say. ''At's a nice name! she say. 'Clematis. So 'at's name I name him, Clematis. Call him Clem fer short, but Clematis his real name.
"I guess it's broke furder on up the cañon, Sandy." Melissa stepped back, as she spoke, to let him precede her on the narrow path, and the two walked silently beside the empty ditch. Lysander's face gathered gloom as they went. "It's some deviltry, I'll bet!" he broke out, after a while. "Danged if I don't begin to think yer maw's right!"
"There's a ladder down thar to Maw's room" pointing to a trapdoor beside the broad chimney that served as a wall "but it's handier the other way, and nearer the bosses if you want to get away quick."
I'm in earnest about it. Things didn't come any too easy around our house I mean Maw's and mine after my father died. Somehow his death sort of changed me from a boy into a man, and, well, I just couldn't think of enough ways to keep her from wanting anything. I felt as if I'd have to be a man big enough to fill my father's place and to take care of her.
"Say! he's scared stiff about the banshee that yells down in the Drowned Lands. He'll be comin' up that way soon's it gets dark. If he seen a ghost there, he'd cut an' run, an' never come back." Davy's languor dropped from him like a garment. "Come on!" he whispered, his eyes shining. "You scoot home an' git that last year's punkin skin, an' I'll sneak some white duds out o' maw's bureau. Golly!
"Well we came over from England last Thursday and struck into our contract here. Things was going pretty good; but you might guess yours truly couldn't stand the dead end of things. I bet Maw's guessed already. Well sir it's that roving streak in me I guess. Never could stick to nothing steady. It got me bad when I got here any how.
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