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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Hackett's dam's bust, shore!" she exclaimed in a moment. Gillsey turned upon her one of his deprecating, toothless smiles. "'T aint a-goin' ter tech us here," said he; "but I'm powerful glad ter be outer the Gornish Camp ter night. Them chaps be a-goin' ter ketch it, blame the'r skins!"
"Guess I ain't familiar wi' Jurassics an' Eocenes," Arizona replied gravely. "Mebbe that was before my time; but ef you're speakin' o' them fellers as clumped each other over the head wi' stone clubs, I 'lows they had more savee than a Noo Yorker, ef they wus kind o' primitive in the'r habits." Tresler accepted the argument in the spirit in which it was put forward. It was no use getting angry.
"They want the'r supper," she said, as she led her guest back to the front yard. She went to the gate and looked down the road. "I see Luke at the branch," she added, coming back to him; "he'd be on faster ef he knowed you wus heer." Luke Bradley was about fifty years of age. He had blue eyes, a long body, long arms, and long legs. His hair was reddish brown and his face florid and freckled.
"My gal-baby keeps up sich a hollerin' I can't hear my own years." "Oh!" "You better b'lieve! Nine hours ole, an' mighty peart. What's them Restercrats in the valley cuttin' up the'r scollops fer?" "Whoopin' up sesaysion. Sou' Ca'liny done plum gone out, an' Georgy a-gwine." Teague Poteet blew a long, thin cloud of home-made tobacco-smoke heavenward, leaned back heavily in his chair, and replied
"I'm a-garn to hick'ry that Bill," she exclaimed weakly. "I tole him to carry me wash-water, and here he is stannin' round thish yer car! George and John's just out, too, and so's Foster. Soon's they git the'r vittles they up and leave me to do the best I kin. Laws! who's garn to pay out money fer fortygraphs?
They know who me 'n Jane are, you bet yore life, an' when we call 'em they come in a tilt with the'r hats in the'r hands. I never lived before, it seems to me, an' I care less than I ever did about the future state. This is good enough for me. If it will just go at the present pace all the time, I won't care to git cold feet an' retire to a soggy hole in the ground."
Miss Jane supported the girl in her strong arms with a grim display of affection, but her attitude towards Bradley Gaither was uncompromising. "Don't alarm yourself, Mr. Gaither," she said; "this poor child'll come too, quick enough. Folks don't fling off the'r misery this easy!" Rose revived after a while, but she seemed to have no desire to talk to her father.
I'm told they started in to call Het 'Young Miss, but when she put on crape an' begun to fling orders about they cut off the 'Young' part. I reckon they'll call you some'n or other to fit the dignity of yore position when they git it into the'r noggin's jest how close you stand to the prime head of it all.
He sent the hosses to the pasture back o' the store, an' told Pomp to give 'em a good rubbin' down, an' to put some o' his famous hoss-tonic in the'r feed." "A circus!" Mrs. Henley said, with a sniff. "A circus, and me the daughter of a Baptist preacher." "Well, he ain't raily goin' to put the thing on the road," Wrinkle said, seriously. "He counts on sellin' it off piece by piece.
He swung himself into the saddle, and rode away, leaving Bedney staring after him, in pitiable dubiety as to his own line of duty. "Wimmen are as hard to live peaceable with as a hatful of hornets, but the'r brains works spryer even than the'r tongues; and they do think as much faster 'an a man, as a express train beats er eight ox-team. Dyce is the safest sign-post!
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