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"The White Mountain Apaches are eating a lot of beef these days," he said suddenly. Shoop grinned. "And it ain't all Gov'ment beef, neither. The line fence crost Still Cañon is down. They's been a fire up on the shoulder of Ole Baldy nothin' much, though.
He tucked the rooster under his arm and started off. "Let's go 'crost back lots," he advised. "What people don't see and don't know about won't hurt 'em, and that includes your wife and mine. "It won't be no kind of a hen-fight, you understand," Hiram chatted as they walked, "'cause that compost-heap scratcher won't last so long as old Brown stayed in heaven.
We had great luck that morning and when our basket was near full we came to Deep Hole and made ready for a swim in the water above it. Uncle Eb had looped an end of the bed cord and tied a few pebbles on it with bits of string. 'Now, said he presently, 'I want t' sink this loop t' the bottom an' pass the end o' the cord under the driftwood so 't we can fetch it 'crost under water.
Dis damn LeFroy, he bane bad man. He vork by Lapierre, and he tak' de vhiskey to jour Injuns, but he don't vork no more by Lapierre; he vork by me. Ay goin' to marry him, and ju bet Ay keep him gude, or Ay bust de stove chunk 'crost his head. He vork by Mees Chloe now, and he lak ju gif him chance to show he ain't no bad man no more."
There is a second title, The Seamans honest wife, to this extraordinary piece. On the last leaf is a note by Sir Henry Herbert: "This Play called ye Seamans honest wife, all ye Oaths left out in ye action as they are crost in ye booke & all other Reformations strictly observed, may bee acted, not otherwise. This 27th June, 1633.
Yet even to his young, undeveloped brain it seemed as if there must be mysteries in sky and sea, the unravelling of which would make life more worth having than the giving and taking of blows, which was all they heeded. No hermit e'er so welcome crost A child's lone path in woodland lost.
This is securely safe, drawes on no danger, Nor is this Chace crost with malignant envy. How sweatly do I live and laugh upon The perrills I have past, the plotts and traynes!
The jade! she knew her business well, She made each hour a heaven or hell, For she could coax and rally; She was SO loving, frank and kind, That no suspicion crost my mind That I was her pis-aller. My brother says "I told you so! Her conduct was not comme il faut, But strictly comme il fallait; She swore that she was fond and true; No doubt she was, poor girl, but you Were only her pis-aller."
You'll remember, relatives and nabors, how I crost the Atlantic Ocean and never agin set foot on my native soil.
Hills, vales and floods appear already crost; And, ere he starts, a thousand steps are lost.
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