ds he must 'a' writ 'em
down, an' then studied 'em all up in the winter-time, to use in the
spring drive."
"Swearin' 's a habit that hed ought to be practiced with turrible
caution," observed old Mr. Wiley, when the drivers had finished luncheon
and taken out their pipes. "There's three kinds o' swearin',--plain
swearin', profane swearin', an' blasphemious swearin'. Logs air jest
like mules: there's times when a man can't seem to rip up a jam in good
style 'thout a few words that's too strong for the infant classes in
Sunday-schools; but a man hed n't ought to tempt Providence. When he's
ridin' a log near the falls at high water, or cuttin' the key-log in a
jam, he ain't in no place for blasphemious swearin'; jest a little
easy, perlite 'damn' is 'bout all he can resk, if he don't want to git
drownded an' hev his ghost walkin' the river-banks till kingdom come.
"You an' I, Long, was the only ones that seen Pretty Quick go, wa'n't
we?" continued Old Kennebec, glancing at Long Abe Dennett (cousin to
Short Abe), who lay on his back in the grass, the smoke-wreaths rising
from his pipe, and the steel spikes in his heavy, calked-sole boots
shining in the sun.
"There was folks on the bridge," Long answered, "but we was the only
ones near enough to see an' hear. It was so onexpected, an' so soon
over, that them as was watchin' upstream, where the men was to work on
the falls, would n't 'a' hed time to see him go down. But I did, an'
nobody ain't heard me swear sence, though it's ten years ago. I allers
said it was rum an' bravadder that killed Pretty Quick Waterman that
day. The boys hed n't give him a 'dare' that he hed n't took up. He
seemed like he was possessed, an' the logs was the same way; they was
fairly wild, leapin' around in the maddest kind o' water you ever see.
The river was b'ilin' high that spring; it was an awful stubborn jam,
an' Pretty Quick, he'd be'n workin' on it sence dinner."
"He clumb up the bank more'n once to have a pull at the bottle that was
hid in the bushes," interpolated Mr. Wiley. "Like as not; that was his
failin'. Well, most o' the boys were on the other side o' the river,
workin' above the bridge, an' the boss hed called Pretty Quick to come
off an' leave the jam till mornin', when they'd get horses an' dog-warp
it off, log by log. But when the boss got out o' sight, Pretty Quick
jest stood right still, swingin' his axe, an' blasphemin' so it would
freeze your blood, vowin' he would n
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