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Updated: June 11, 2025
"But whar did you get it, Josh Stebbins? Who gin it to you?" "You remember the man I brought over here last fall?" "Sartint I do. Young he wur Brig Young, I think, you called him." "The same." "In coorse, I remember him well enough; but I reckon our Marian do a leetle better. He tried to spark the gurl, an' made fine speeches to her; but she couldn't bar the sight o' him for all that. Ha! ha! ha.
'The place I think she liked most of all wur that very pool where she and you breakfasted together on that morning. 'Were there no other favourite places? 'Yes, there wur the Fairy Glen; she wur very fond of that. And there wur the Swallow Falls; she wur very fond of them. And there wur a place on the Beddgelert pathway, up from the Carnarvon road, about two miles from Beddgelert.
She was touched in the 'ead, an' she used to say she must beg, an' there was nothink she used to like so much as to stan' with a box o' matches a-jabberin' a tex' out o' the Bible unless it was singin'. There you are, a-larfin' and a-gurnin' ag'in. If I wur on'y 'arf as drunk as you are the coppers 'ud 'a' run me in hours ago; cuss 'em, an' their favouritin' ways.
Lucky for you, my fine Gorgio, that you didn't guess it, she said, in an altered tone. 'Why? ''Cos if you had a-guessed it you'd ha' cotch'd a left-hand body-blow that 'ud most like ha' killed you. That's what you'd ha' cotch'd. But now as we're a-goin' to part for ever I'll tell you. 'Part for ever, Sinfi? 'Yis, an' that's why I'm goin' to tell you what my dukkeripen wur.
It wur allus, "Let his children be wagabones and beg their bread; let them seek it also out of desolate places." Why, you're at it ag'in gurnin' ag'in. You must be drunk. Again there came upon me the involuntary laughter of heart-agony at its tensest. I cried aloud: 'Faith and Love! Faith and Love!
It mout a been wuss but for the blanket an' the sprinkle o' snow that made the ground a leetle slickerer. "Howsomever, I got safe to the Fort, whur I wur soon rigged out in a fresh suit o' buckskin an' a hoss. "But I never arterward see'd a parairy-wolf within range o' my rifle, that I didn't let it into him, an' as you see, I've throwed a good wheen in their tracks since then. Wagh!
I wasn't a gardener then, I was in the cobblin' line, an' sat all day mendin' an' patchin' the folks' boots an' shoes. Mollie wur a lovin' little thing, an' oncommon sensible in her ways. She'd sit at my feet an' make-believe to be sewin' the bits of leather together, an' chatter away as merry as a wren.
It wur a bright moon light neet, just such a neet as this, an' th' lass had followed me out to see th' moonshine, it wur so bright an' clear; an' just before I starts she folds both her hands on my shoulder an' says, soft an' thoughtful: "'Tim, I wonder if th' little chap sees us? "'I'd loike to know, dear lass, I answers back. An' then she speaks again:
"That Egyptian is a watcher," he said grimly, "and I don't like either of 'em." "What's the matter, Simon?" "Why, this yer morning, I wur exchangin' a few pleasant remarks with one of the maid-servants, when I hears the Egyptian say, 'It's gwine beautiful. 'How? says t'other. 'He'll nibble like hanything, was the answer, and then I hearn a nasty sort o' laugh.
This, thort I, 'll do for campin'-ground; so I got down, pulled the saddle off o' my ole mar, an' staked the critter upon the best patch o' grass that wur near, intendin' she shed hev her gut-full afore the camp cattle kim up to bother her. "I hed shot a black-tail buck, an' after kindlin' a fire, I roasted a griskin' o' him, an' ate it.
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