You'd better do what I ask, fer it's makin' a
reg'lar devil out o' me. I feel it comin' on, an' I won't be fit fer
no place but hell fire. I jest cayn't see no sense, jestice, nur
reason in my pore little child lyin' in her bed an' twistin' with sech
trouble. You, or some power above or below, tuck Jasper frum me an'
left that yaller-haired sting fer me to brood over day an' night, but
the same ur wuss mustn't come to Sally, kase she don't deserve
it--she's _helpless_! Oh, Lord, have mercy--have mercy--mercy--mercy!"
She rose to her feet, and without undressing threw herself on the bed.
She could hear Slogan and his wife, now barefooted, thumping about in
the next room. Far away against the mountain-side she heard a hunter
calling to his dogs and blowing a horn.
Chapter II
John Westerfelt lived on his own farm in the big two-storied frame
house which had been built by his grandfather, and which came to him at
the death of his father and mother. The place was managed for him by a
maternal uncle, whose wife and daughter kept the house in order.
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