Why, I never did see Lou as skittish as she is now. I reckon it's
because he's the son of a United States jedge."
"Oh, you've found out all about him, have you? Wall, he's sorter
skittish, too. And when his aunt talks it puts me in mind of a bird a
singin' up summers among the green leaves."
"Oh, any woman could talk thatter way if you'd put fine clothes on her.
Trouble is when a woman ain't dressed fitten to kill, nobody won't
listen to her. Common calico can't talk any better than that Mose Blake;
but silk--law me! Sings like a bird up among the green leaves. I despise
to hear a man go on thatter way--jest as if a woman ain't respectable
unless she covers herself with finery. But I want to tell you that Lou
can talk with the rest of 'em when she wants to--and so can I, for that
matter."
"Oh, you can talk, Margaret--thar ain't no doubt about that. Well, I'll
go out now and see if the hogs air gittin' along all right, and when
dinner's ready jest blow yo' ho'n."
Off from the road, not far from the house, a gulch ran zig-zag up among
the rugged hills.
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