"
She took the crank from him and began laboriously to turn it. "Down in
Maine where I came from I used to turn for the men when they ground
their scythes--just for fun."
"Yes, fun for them that seed you do it, I reckon. Maine--Maine. That
whar they uster burn witches?"
"Oh, no, they never burned any witches in Maine."
"Why, couldn't they ketch 'em?"
"Oh, they never burned any witches in this country, Uncle Jasper. That's
all a fable."
The old man pondered as if searching in his mind for a forgotten name.
"But," said he, "they uster burn them fellers--fellers that done sorter
this way," and he began to shake his shoulders.
"Oh, you mean Quakers."
"Yes, Quakers."
"Yes, they hanged Quakers."
[Illustration: "KOTCH 'EM STEALIN' HOSSES, I RECKON."]
"Kotch 'em stealin' hosses, I reckon."
"No, hanged them on account of their religion."
"Whew, ruther hard on that sort of doctrine."
"Helloa, Jasper," a voice called, and looking about they saw Laz Spencer
climbing upon the fence. They bade him good morning, and sitting on the
top rail of the fence he took out a jews-harp and began to wipe it on
his coat-sleeve.
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