ead anyway; and Temple Scott will probably
be hanged, and no one will kill you--you'll grow up and get
married--not to Zueline--"

"No," says Mitch, "never to her. For I ain't suspicious of her--I'm just
done with her, just like Hamlet was done with Ophelia. I know her as he
knew Ophelia, though she's different from Ophelia. She's cold, Skeet,
and never understood me. I see that now. If she had, she'd never let her
mother keep her away from me. Nothin' can keep a girl away from you that
loves you. And I'll tell you something right now. Not long ago, I was
walkin' by her house on purpose and she came out goin' somewhere. I
tried to talk to her, and tell her that we could meet sometimes, maybe
down at Fillmore Springs, or take a little walk at dusk or early
evening; and that I wouldn't bother her much, only we'd understand that
by and by we'd get married and be together forever, and I'd go away
happy if I could have that hope. Well, she kind of turned on me and said
'no,' and hurried on. And, Skeet, when I saw that, when I saw that it
was her as well as her ma that wanted me away, and meant to keep away
from me--something kind of froze through me--or burned maybe, and then
froze--my heart got like a big stone, and I could see it just as if it
had been scalt and then turned white and shiny and kind of numb like my
foot I cut in two. I began to laugh and since then I have been changed;
and I'll never be the same again. My ma said it was foolish, that I was
just a little boy and I'd grow up and it would all be forgotten. But I
know better--I'm Hamlet--and I don't forget, and I never will. Do you
remember one time when you and I was out to your grandpa's farm and
Willie Wallace was settin' out trees?"

I said "yes."

"Well," says Mitch, "Willie Wallace that time cut a gash in a tree with
the pruner while handlin' it and settin' it out. And he says to us,
'That tree will never get over that. By and by it will be a big scar,
growin' big as the tree grows big, and grown over, maybe, but still a
scar; or worse, it may stay open more or less and rain and frost will
get in, and insects, and after a while it will be a great rotten place,
a hole for a snake or a rat, or maybe a bird.' Well, pa says that
Linkern lost Anne Rutledge and that he thinks Linkern's beautiful talk
and wonderful words came from losin' Anne Rutledge. I don't quite see
how--but if it did, then if a bird gets into the hole in the tree,
that's a sign that you