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Dogs don't bite at de front gate. Colt in de barley-patch kick high. Jay-bird don't rob his own nes'. Pullet can't roost too high for de owl. Meat fried 'fo' day won't las' twel night. Stump water won't kyo' de gripes. De howlin' dog know w'at he sees. Blin' hoss don't fall w'en he follers de bit. Hongry nigger won't w'ar his maul out. Don't fling away de empty wallet.

"Da will be fo' gittin' back to de cabe an' stayin' dar." "I hope that traveler escaped them," answered Jack. "But those gun-shots sounded dubious." "De gorillas ought all to be hung!" came from Columbus Washington. "Da aint no sodgers, no matter if da do w'ar a uniform." "They are outlaws, pure and simple," answered Jack. "But come, we must go on. Ben, how far are we from home, do you calculate?"

Most mountaineers are indulgent, super-indulgent parents. The oft-heard threat "I'll w'ar ye out with a hick'ry!" is seldom carried out. The boys, especially, grow up with little restraint beyond their own natural sense of filial duty.

A low mumbling followed, and then the voice again cried: "Ef you-all w'arn't my match, Ah'd go away and nary trouble this ranch agin. But folkses kin see we-all w'ar made fer each other. Even John says so!" Then sounded another jumble of incoherent words. "Who under the sun is it? A couple who are in love with each other?" wondered Eleanor, aloud, as she turned to Polly.

Yore baby's got ter w'ar a bad man's name but hit'll hev a good woman's blood in hits veins. They'll low I kilt him, Sally. Let 'em b'lieve hit. I hain't got no woman nor no child of my own ter think erbout ... I kin git away an' start fresh in some other place.

"But ef ever I does go so crazy es ter wed with a man, thet man'll tek my surname an' our children 'll tek hit too, an' w'ar hit 'twell they dies." Brent had wondered how the Parson and his exhausted companions would, in the short time at their disposal, be able to call out a new force of volunteers.

Mah missis wuz named Emily Hatchet en de young missises wuz Mittie en Bettie, dey wuz twins. We had good clothes ter w'ar en w'en we went ter de table hit wuz loaded wid good food en we could set down en eat our stomachs full. Oh Lawd I wish dem days wuz now so I'd hab sum good food. Ob course, we had ter wuk in de fiel's en mek w'at we et.

Young feller," he went on, speaking to Tom, "I like the way you acted under fire. Thar was a time when I believed that a feller with store clothes on was easy skeered, and I laughed when I seed 'em j'inin' the army 'lowed they would w'ar out in a day or two; but they outmarched us fellers that follered the plow an' when the time come they tuck their red medicine an' never whimpered.

"And in goin' a-co'tin', ye've got to ile yer ha'r out some, an' put essence on yer han'kercher, an' w'ar a smile continnooal, an' keep a-arskin' 'em ef tobakker smoke sickens on 'em, an' all sech o' these ere s'ciety flourishes an' gew-gaws 's that." "Yes," said I, attentively.

"Fool nigger, doan know what wah is doan lemme heah you talk no more 'bout gwine to de wah ur I gwine to w'ar you out wid a hickory dat's whut I'll do now you min'." She turned on Basil then; but Basil had retreated, and his laugh rang from the darkening yard. She cried after him: "An' doan lemme heah you puttin' dis fool nigger up to gittin' hisself killed by dem Cubians neither; no suh!"