United States or Cyprus ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
An' Pig-wigs Griggs, he 'lowed he knowed the coat war his uncle Nate's by the favior of it, an' he reckoned the paper stickin' out'n the pocket war the grant he hed hearn Nate talkin' 'bout. An' I whispered ter him ez he hed better ondertake ter tote it home ter Nate. An' Pig-wigs said he couldn't tote the coat, bein' so lumbered up with the deedie.
"Waal," the small boy began alertly, "we-uns hed the deedie behind the smoke-house thar, an' I seen HIM" Rufe pointed at Byers with disfavor "a-comin' powerful slow inter the tanyard, an' I whispered ter Pig-wigs Griggs ter be quiet, an' not let HIM know ez we-uns war thar, 'kase he war always a-jawin' at me, 'thout the tanner war by ter keep him off'n me.
"Ye see," he continued, "one day when his uncle Tim war over hyar ter the tanyard, I gin him one o' my game deedies; an' ez soon ez he got home he showed 'em all that thar deedie powerful, spryest poultry ye ever see!" Rufe smiled ecstatically as only a chicken fancier can. "An' Pig-wigs war plumb DE-stracted fur a deedie too. An' he run all the way over hyar ter git me ter gin him one.
"Waal, how did the grant git inter the pit, Rufe, an' what hev become of it?" asked Byers, overlooking these personalities, for he felt a certain anxiety in the matter, being the last person known to have seen the grant, which, by reason of his delay and indecision, had again been spirited away. "Pig-wigs put it thar, I tell ye," reiterated Rufe.
So we-uns bided thar till HE went inter the smoke-house. An' then ez we-uns kem by the shed, Pig-wigs seen his uncle Nate's coat hangin' on a peg thar, 'kase that thar triflin' Tim hed furgot, an' lef' it thar when he went ter see the deedies.
"He air Nate's nevy. He air Nate's oldest brother's biggest boy, though he ain't sizable much. He air 'bout haffen ez big ez me ef that," he added reflectively, thinking that even thus divided he had represented Pig-wigs as more massive than the facts justified.
"Pig-wigs Griggs," replied Rufe, unexpectedly. A glance of intelligence passed between the men. "Tell 'bout it, Rufe," said the tanner, suppressing all appearance of excitement. "Ye ain't goin' ter do nuthin' ter Pig-wigs fur foolin' with yer pit, ef I tell ye?" asked Rufe, quickly. "Naw, bub, naw. Which Griggs do ye call 'Pig-wigs?" "Why PIG-WIGS," Rufe reiterated obviously. Then he explained.
An' whilst Pig-wigs war foolin' round, he drapped his deedie, an' stepped on it tromped the life out'n it." Rufe's expression was of funereal gravity. "An' then he follered me every foot o' the way home, beggin' an' beggin' me ter gin him another. But I wouldn't. I won't gin no more o' my deedies ter be tromped on, all round the mounting."
Nate was just emerging from the door. The claybank mare, saddled and bridled, stood in front of the cabin. He was evidently about to mount. "Look-a-hyar, ye scamp!" Byers saluted him gruffly, "whyn't ye let we-uns know ez ye hed got back that thar grant o' yourn, ez hev sot the whole mounting catawampus? Pig-wigs hearn ye talkin' 'bout it at las', and tole ye ez he hed it, I s'pose?"
"Pig-wigs fotched it home, eh?" demanded Byers, leaning downward. Once more Nate lifted his long, thin questioning face. His craft had no encouragement. "Ef ye be minded to call him 'Pig-wigs' his right name air Benjymen 't war him ez fotched it home." "Now ye air a mighty cantankerous, quar'lsome, aggervatin' critter!" Byers broke out irritably.
Word Of The Day