spied little Tommy. He
put, and she put arter him. There wasn't nothin' else to do, so Tommy
took a high jump and landed in the pig-sty. Old Bill is kinder deef in
one ear, and he didn't notice much what wuz goin' on on that side of
him. He was runnin' the grindstone and puttin' a good sharp edge on his
butcher knife, when he happened to look up and seed old Jinnie comin'
head on. He dropped the knife and started for the house, thinkin' he'd
dodge in the front door. Over went the grindstone and old Jinnie, too,
but she wuz up on her feet ag'in quicker'n scat. She seemed to scent the
old man, for when she got to the front door she turned in and then
bolted right into the parlor. Old Bill heerd her comin', and he went
head fust through the open winder, and landed in the orchard. He got up
and run for a big apple-tree that stood out near the road, and never
stopped till he'd clumb nearly to the top. Little Lizzie gave a yell
like a catamount and ran behind the pianner, which was sot out a little
from the wall. Old Jinnie went bunt inter the planner and made a
sandwich of Lizzie, who wuz behind it. Mis' Tompkins heard Lizzie
scream, and come to see what the matter was. When she see Jinnie she
jist made strides for the wood-shed, and old Jinnie sashayed arter her.
Mis' Tompkins went skitin' through the wood-shed. There wuz a pair of
steps that led up inter the corn barn, and Mis' Tompkins got up there
jist as old Jinnie walked off with the steps. Then old Jinnie took a
walk outside and looked 'round as unconsarned as though nothin' had
happened. Jist about this time one of them tin peddlers come along that
druv one of them red carts with pots, and pans, and kittles, and brooms,
and brushes, and mops hung all over it. He spied old Bill up in the
tree, and sez he, 'What be yar doin', Farmer Tompkins?' 'Pickin'
apples,' said old Bill. He don't waste words on nobody. 'Ain't it rather
early for apples?' inquired the peddler. 'These are some I forgot to
pick last fall,' replied old Bill. 'Anythin' in my line?' said the
peddler. 'Ain't got no money,' said Bill. 'Hain't you got something you
want to trade?' asked the peddler. 'Yes,' said Bill, 'I'll swap that cow
over yonder; you kin have her for fifteen dollars, an' I'll take it all
in trade,' 'Good milker?' said the man. 'Fust-class butter,' said old
Bill. 'What do you want in trade?' said the man. 'Suit yerself,' said
Bill, 'chuck it down side of the road there.' This was soon done