cold as a cake o' ice in the small o'
yore back. I called Bill out in his shift on the porch. I was mighty
nigh friz, an' I reckon he soon got that away, fer he kept dancin'
about fust on one foot an' then on another, while we talked. He
admitted she wus thar, but he wouldn't let me stay all night, although
I offered to plank down the usual price fer man an' beast. She'd been
talkin' to him, I could see that, fer he up an' said some'n about folks
bein' churched in his settlement fer the mistreatment o' widows, but
he'd admit, he said, that he wusn't posted on the manners an' customs
uv all the places over beyant the mount'in; he reckoned the nigher
people got to the railroad the furder they wus from the cross. I tried
to reason with 'im, but he said ef I wanted to argue my case, I'd
better come round in the summer.

"Thar wusn't any other house nigher'n six miles, an' so I made me a
fire in a little cove by the road, an' set over it an' thought, mostly
about women, all night. I've heerd preachers say a man oughtn't to
think too much about women anyway, but I reckon I backslid last night,
fer I thought hard about mighty nigh ever' woman I ever seed or heerd
of."

"How has Mrs. Dawson been getting on since I left?" ventured Westerfelt.

"Just about as bad as she knowed how, I reckon, John. After you left,
she seemed to take 'er spite out on Lizzie Lithicum. Liz never could
pass anywhar nigh 'er without havin' the old cat laugh out loud at 'er.
Liz has been goin' with that cock-eyed Joe Webb a good deal--you know
he's jest about the porest ketch anywhars about, an' that seemed to
tickle Mis' Dawson mightily. I reckon somebody told 'er some'n Liz
said away back when you fust started to fly around 'er. I axed Clem
Dill ef he knowed anything about it, an' Clem 'lowed Liz had kind o'
made fun o' Sally about you gittin' tired uv 'er, an' one thing ur
other. I dunno; I cayn't keep up with sech things. I jest try to find
'em out once in awhile because Clariss' is sech a hand to want to know.
When she gits to rantin' about anythin' I've done--ur hain't done--all
I got to do to shet 'er up is to start to tell 'er some'n somebody's
has said about somebody else, an' she gits 'er cheer. So I try to keep
a stock o' things on hand. Clem Dill's afeerd o' Mis' Dawson now. I
was in the store one day about a week ago, an' she come in to swap a
pair o' wool socks she had knit fer coffee, an' Clem 'lowed, jest to
pass the t