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"Oh, Lordy! what is that?" he stammered. He sank to the ground, grabbing wildly for his gun. "It's a cougar! I hear him trompin' up from the creek! It's a c-cougar! He's c-comin' closter! Oh, Lordy!" "Hello, Bud," called Mrs. Cullum, cheerily. She slipped from the saddle as she spoke and caught the half-fainting snipe-hunter in her motherly arms.
The youth pointed vaguely. "Over there," he replied. "Well, now look a here now," said the tattered man, rambling on in idiot fashion. His head was hanging forward and his words were slurred. "This thing won't do, now, Tom Jamison. It won't do. I know yeh, yeh pig-headed devil. Yeh wanta go trompin' off with a bad hurt. It ain't right now Tom Jamison it ain't.
Yeh wanta leave me take keer of yeh, Tom Jamison. It ain't right it ain't fer yeh t' go trompin' off with a bad hurt it ain't ain't ain't right it ain't." In reply the youth climbed a fence and started away. He could hear the tattered man bleating plaintively. Once he faced about angrily. "What?" "Look a here, now, Tom Jamison now it ain't " The youth went on.
Dat night, all de sho' 'nough white men came a-marchin' out Seventh Street on dey way to de quarters. "I had did up Miss Lizzie's parlor curtains dat very day an' de boy was puttin' up de mouldin' frame 'roun' 'em when us hear dat trompin' soun'. It didn' soun' lak no ever'day marchin'. It soun' lak Judgement Day. De boy fell off de ladder an' run an' hid b'hind de flour barrel in de pantry.
Oncle Jazon pounced upon the hand and gripped it in his own knotted fingers, gazing delightedly up into Clark's bronzed and laughing face. "Where'd I come frum? I come frum ever'wheres. Fust time I ever got lost in all my born days. Fve been a trompin' 'round in the water seems like a week, crazy as a pizened rat, not a knowin' north f'om south, ner my big toe f'om a turnip!
I know, 'ca'se I wus dar m'se'f. But dat night when I had gone to bed an' wus gittin' off to meh fus' nap, I was woke up on a sudden by de noise uv a gre't stompin' an' trompin' an snortin' in de road. I jump up an' look out de winder, an' I 'clar' 'fo' Gracious if dar warn't Mose, natchel as life, horses an' hack an' all, tearin' by at a break-neck speed.
"Well, yearly nex' mornin hyear dey come agin, an' dis time de king he come wid 'em; an' dey hyeard de lions er ro'in, 'Ar-ooorrrrar! arooorrrrar! an' dey come ter de den, an' dey open de do', an' dar wuz de lions wid dey mouf open an' dey eyes er shinin, jes er trompin' backerds an f'orerds; an' dar in de corner sot an angel smoovin' uv 'is wings; an' right in de middle uv de den was Dan'l, jes er sot'n back dar!
Thus equipped she appeared before Mara at the usual hour with her grandchild, and began complacently: "Now, honey lam', you'se gwine to hab two strings to you'se bow. I sometimes feel ole an' stiff in my jints an' my heft is kinder agin me in trompin'. Here's my granddaughter, an' she's spry as a cricket.
The youth pointed vaguely. "Over there," he replied. "Well, now look a here now," said the tattered man, rambling on in idiot fashion. His head was hanging forward and his words were slurred. "This thing won't do, now, Tom Jamison. It won't do. I know yeh, yeh pig-headed devil. Yeh wanta go trompin' off with a bad hurt. It ain't right now Tom Jamison it ain't.
I wuz stannin' down dere by Mars John Jeems's bank, chattin' wid Sis Tempy, w'ich I ain't seed 'er befo' now gwine on seven year, an' watchin' de folks trompin' by, w'en one er deze yer slick-lookin' niggers, wid a bee-gum hat an' a brass watch ez big ez de head uv a beerbar'l, come long an' bresh up agin me so.
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