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The hairts o the widow and fairtherless must be stricken, and it's little that a' our consolations and expairiments will prevail ag'in the feelin's o' natur'. Pheeloosophy and religion tall us that the body's no mair than a clod o' the valley when the speerit has fled; but the hairt is unapt to listen to wisdom while the grief is fraish, and of the severity of an unlooked-for sairtainty.

When the war is over an' the men come back to the Cove, none of 'em will so much as look at ye, with yer skin all pock-marked fair an' fine as it is now, like a pan of fraish milk." "But, granny, it won't be sp'ilt! The camp war too fur off an' thar warn't a breath o' wind. I never went a-nigh 'em."

"Yer white sun-bonnet plumb off an' a-hangin' down on yer shoulders, an' yer yaller hair all a-blowsin' at loose eends, stiddier bein' plaited up stiff an' tight an' personable, an' yer face burned pink in the sun, stiddier like yer skin ginerally looks, fine an' white ez a pan o' fraish milk, an' the flabby, slinksy skirt o' that yaller calico dress 'thout no starch in it, a-flappin' an' whirlin' in the wind shucks!

"When the other dogs found her, he rushed right in. She hadn't been trapped more'n a few hours, and she larned Coaly somethin' about the bear business." "Won't this spoil him for hunting hereafter?" "Not if he has his daddy's and mammy's grit. We'll know by to-morrow whether he's a shore-enough bear dog; for I've larned now whar they're crossin' seed sign a-plenty and it's spang fraish.