Part 29 (1/2)
”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.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”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.”
”h.e.l.loa, 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.
”How air you gittin' along, Laz?” Old Jasper inquired.
”Never better.”
”Glad to hear it. Best day of a man's life is when he was never better.
I'll let that n.i.g.g.e.r finish this job,” he said, sticking the axe into a log; and Mrs. Mayfield, willing enough to play quits, smiled upon him and walked out to the gap and stood looking down the road.
”Have a drink of water, Laz?” Jasper inquired, pointing to a pail on the bench.
”No, laid on a rock an' got a drink outen the creek as I come along.”
”Wall, this is fresh water. Wan't fotch from the spring mo' than twenty-fo' hours ago.”
”Don't reckon you kin tempt me, Jasper.”
The old man took up the gourd, and in attempting to drink, let the water pour through the handle and run down his sleeve. He threw the vegetable dipper back into the bucket and declared that a man might as well try to drink out of a sifter.
”Any news over yo' way, Laz?”
”Don't believe thar's anythin' wu'th dividin'.”
”n.o.body shot or cut?”
”Let me see. Reckon you hearn about Oscar Pryor.”
”No, not sence he borrid five dollars of me. What about him?”
”Went down in the bottoms whar folks war a leetle too civilized an' fell in a well.”
”Did they git him out?”