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Updated: June 15, 2025
An' I 'adn't much time to waste neither, for I knew there was Kafirs all about, an' the troops was gettin' a'ead of me, an' my 'oss was tied to a yellow-wood tree at the foot o' the kloof, an' I began to feel sort o' skeery with the gloomy thickets all around, an' rugged precipices lookin' as if they'd tumble on me, an' the great mountains goin' up to 'eaven oh! I can tell you it was it was "
He said a man an' his wife come out here t' live an' put up that there little place. An' she was young, you know, an' kind o' skeery, and she got lonesome. It worked on her an' worked on her, an' one day she up an' killed the baby an' her husband an' herself. Th' folks found 'em and buried 'em right there on their own ground. Well, about two weeks after that, th' house was burned down.
"Buck-board's right out here behind the freight shed," and he pointed across the track. "Old mare's kinder skeery o' the engine, so I tied her a piece off." He was precisely the man I had expected to find even to his shaggy gray hair matted close about his ears, wrinkled, leathery face, and long, scrawny neck.
"We've got ter git ter camp, an' this's the nearest way; but, ef you're afraid, we'll turn back. That warn't nothin' ter hurt, though, it did sound kind er skeery. Ther shortest way's always ther best in this country, so let's go ahead," said Jerry.
Butterflies flitted fearlessly down into its shady ravines. A squirrel ran out on a limb, and sat chattering at him saucily. Then a big gray rabbit rustled through the leaves, and went loping away into the depths of the thicket. "I don't believe there's anything skeery in there at all!" exclaimed John Jay aloud.
I'se seed many a ghos' an' a ha'nt in meh time, uv humans, but dat wus de fus' time I uver heard tell uv a horse or a hack risin' f'um de daid. 'Twus skeery, sho'!"
But down 'ere's a farm where I put up for the afternoon an' 'elps 'em through with their butter-makin', for there's a lot o' skeery gals in the fam'ly as thinks more o' doin' their 'air than churnin', an' doin' the 'air don't bring no money in, though mebbe it might catch a 'usband as wasn't worth 'avin'. An' Jim gets his food 'ere too.
"Folks s'picion dat Chunk yere en dat ud be de eend ob him, sho. He ain' seen Marse Scoville daid sho. He on'y see 'im fall. Chunk wanter see you en he mighty skeery 'bout hit, kaze ef Perkins get on he track he done fer. He ain' see he granny yit en he darsn't come dar twel hit late. He larn ter toot lak a squinch-owl frum Marse Scoville en he tole me dat when he come agin he toot.
"He has retired." "Wall, my pretty dears," sez I, "let's have sum fun. Let's play puss in the corner. What say?" "Air you a Shaker, sir?" they axed. "Wall my pretty dears, I haven't arrayed my proud form in a long weskit yit, but if they was all like you perhaps I'd jine 'em. As it is, I'm a Shaker pro-temporary." They was full of fun. I seed that at fust, only they was a leetle skeery.
"I am afraid I have some serious work cut out for me to-night. If you want to go you are welcome to do so, and if you stay I'll be glad to have you. I don't know anyone I had rather have near me when a row springs up." "Me, Marse Cally? You sholy don't mean me." It was plain that he was delighted. "You know how skeery I is, Marse Cally, when dey's a row gwine on.
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