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Him and me fixed up the buggy agin, and he's gone to borry Harmon's me-yule so as you uns can git back to Black Log." "Tip's left Black Log forever," I said firmly. Then John Shadrack's widow laughed. She laughed so hard that she blew the ashes out of her pipe, and they showered down over my face, and made me wink and sputter. "There there," she said solicitously, dusting them away with her hand.
"And a washin'-machine," said she. "And two hogs." "And he tells me he's going to git her a melodium." "Indeed," said I. "Why, I thought he was never going back." "To sech a lovely home?" The old woman held up her hands. "He's goin' jest as soon as he gets that me-yule and you're able." She laid her hand on my forehead. "There," she cried, "it's painin' you again, poor thing that terrible spot."
She was so cheery. Even now she was offering me a piece of gingerbread. I ate it ravenously. Then I asked, "Where is Tip?" "He's gone down the walley to my brother-in-law, Harmon Shadrack's. He's tryin' to borry a me-yule." "A what?" "A me-yule. The colt was dead beside you in the creek.
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