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'Twarn't fancy shootin', like they hes on the stage yo' war er-speakin of, p'raps, but hit took a stiddy hand an' a clar eye ter do the trick. Gener'lly the spo't ended with the pick er the rifle shooters a-trying ter cut down ten weighted strings et a hundred paces, an' more times then once I done hit in as many shots."
"That are a p'int," agreed Yancy slowly. "Might I ask what parts you'd specially recommend?" lifting his grave eyes to hers. "It would really be the sensible thing to do!" said Betty. "I am sure you would like West Tennessee they say you are a great hunter." Yancy smiled almost guiltily. "I like a little spo't now and then yes, ma'am, I do hunt some," he admitted.
But s'pose you have to drive it right under fire, as you most often have to do, an' then if a shell or somethin' like it hits your wagon the whole thing goes off kerplunk, an' whar are you?" "It's a sudden an' easy death," said Dalton, philosophically. "Too sudden an' too easy. I don't mind tellin' you that seein' men killed an' wounded is a spo't that's beginnin' to pall on me.
That he was not dressed in them, and yet saved them, made him capable of performing his one philanthropy. Had he not been gorgeously dressed he would not have inspired the confidence of the old Negro who came up to him on Tuesday morning, disconsolate and weeping. "Mistah," he said deferentially through his tears, "is you a spo't?" Mr.
The old negro looked at him, puzzled and frightened by his grim tone and manner. "Why why " he began. "Is it hereabouts he hunts fo' deer? He wrote home he was findin' good spo't in the mountains, huntin' deer." Joe's mouth twitched ominously, involuntarily.
We all appreciate the odds. Cora has lots of friends. You'll never convict him, Milt; but go in again for another trial, if it will do yo're feelin's any good, with our best wishes. Only don't let gettin' licked make you so sore! Don't go buttin' yo're haid at yo're friends! Be a spo't!"
"Well, I'll tell you des' how it is, suh. I come f'om down in Ma'lan', 'case I wanted to see de hosses run. My ol' mastah was moughty fon' of sich spo't, an' I kin' o' likes it myse'f, dough I don't nevah bet, suh. I's a chu'ch membah.
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