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The building of the chaise is described with a practical accuracy of detail, and yet with a poetical turn to every verse: "The hubs of logs from the 'Settler's ellum', Last of its timber, they couldn't sell 'em; Never an axe had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips, Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips";
"You'll be brought home agin, sure as preachin'," said Sarah Dean, "and if you're brought home ag'in, you won't get up ag'in." Old Daniel laughed. "Now don't you worry, Sarah," said he. "I'll set down under that big ellum and keep cool." Old Daniel, at Sarah's earnest entreaties, took a palm-leaf fan. But he did not use it.
I'd bate on them gals if it wa'n't that them fellers is naterally longer winded, as the gals 'll find aout by the time they git raound the stake 'n' over agin the big ellum. I'll go ye a quarter on the pahnts agin the petticoats." The fresh-water fisherman had expressed the prevailing belief that the young ladies were overmatched.
One woodman laughed, and the other an old rustic, brown and bent made answer: "I sez 'dang the tree! Us doan't take no joy in thrawin' en, mister. I be bedoled wi' pain, an' this 'ere sawin's just food for rheumatiz. My back's that bad. But Squire must 'ave money, an' theer's five hundred pounds' value o' ellum comin' down 'fore us done wi' it."
And the droning of bees and buzzing of flies, or the sudden clamour of a hen somewhere near would come floating in through the open window, and the odour of the flowers and the twigs of the "ellum" tree tapping at the pane helped to make the little church a haven of restfulness.
"He sent this blessedness to me, to know his soul is saved, that he is working for Him." I felt queer. That afternoon they met under a ellum tree. He'd found out she wuz there, and asked for a interview, which I see that she granted him. It wuz a pretty spot, clost to the water, with trees of droopin' ellums and some maples, and popples touched with fire and gold.
Sometimes up a high pine tree or ellum a wild ivy had clum and wuz hangin' on with one hand and wavin' out to us its banner of gold and crimson as we passed.
I never told you to bring me out to this bloomin' farm see?" "What is it, Mustang?" asked Poky Rodgers, almost forgetting to smoke in his ecstasy. "What do it live on?" "It's a galliwampus, Poky," said Mustang. "It's the thing that hollers 'willi-walloo' up in ellum trees in the low grounds of nights. I don't know if it bites." "No, it ain't, Mustang," volunteered Long Collins.
"I never knew one of that tribe that hadn't a queer streak and wasn't shif'less; but they're tougher than ellum roots;" and she gave the wheel an emphatic turn, while Mrs. Snow reached for more rolls of wool, and happened to see me. "Wherever did you come from?" said they, in great surprise. "Why, you wasn't anywhere in sight when I was out speaking to the doctor," said Mrs. Snow.
And one day, as this boy, his name was Reuben, I forget his other name, as Reuben was settin' under a tree, an ellum tree, cryin', he heerd a little, little bit of a voice, not squeaky, you know, but small and thin and soft like, and he see 'twas a posy talkin'. 'Twas one o' them posies they call Benjamins, with three-cornered whitey blowths with a mite o' pink on 'em, and it talked in a kind o' pinky-white voice, and it says, "What you cryin' for, Reuben?"
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