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Words: 30242 in 15 pages
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"I done my best to sorter make up to Miss Lucy, while I wuz there fer the way they wuz a doin' her, and Miss Nancy ketched on to hit. Then ever' time me and Miss Lucy'd be a talkin' pleasant, she'd make signs to the old man, like 'jest look at Lucy tryin' to court, won't you, Pa!'
"When I come down stairs ag'in I says, 'Miss Nancy, you needn't 'a' been skeered about Miss Lucy,--you don't thenk I'd eat her ef I happened to ketch her by herse'f, do you?'"
"Now, Mr. Lindsay," put in Mr. Doggett, "maybe 'tain't so much meanness in the old man as you thenk. He hain't the worst man in the world when all's said: I thenk he's got some mighty clever streaks."
"I fail to see 'em," said Mrs. Doggett.
"Well, yes, old lady, but' he's suffered a heap, and maybe his mind hain't exactly all thar!"
"Naw you needn't tell me that old creeter's anytheng but mean!" Mrs. Doggett's voice was a snort of apparent jeering disbelief. "Old age and disease hain't got nothin' to do with hit. That old man's inbred mean!"
"I wonder what's the matter with Miss Nancy?" Dock ventured, raising his tousled head off the bed.
"I jest tell you, Mr. Lindsay," Mr. Doggett observed in a whisper to Mr. Lindsay, "hit's jest as plain as the nose on a man's face, when all's considered: Miss Nancy wuz a hankerin' to be Mrs. Lindsay--she wanted you herse'f!"
"NIGHT RIDERS"
"A jest and by-word are they grown."
"O Ma! Come here, Ma, quick!"
It was Monday morning, and this peremptory summons for Mrs. Doggett came from the direction of the tobacco barn, in Joey's voice, hoarse and unnatural. Mrs. Doggett's hands were in the bread-tray, but she tore the dough from her fingers, and heedless of the milk pitcher that crashed to the floor under the impetus of her rush, ran at top speed in the direction of the call.
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