Lawsy me, haven't I got a lots to tell you, though! You had as
well prepare fer a big surprise. You couldn't guess what tuk place out
thar atter you left ef you made a thousand dabs at it. Luke, go put up
the hoss. I want to talk to John, an' I don't want you to bother us
tell I'm through, nuther. You kin find plenty to do out at the barn
fer a few minutes."
Westerfelt followed her into the sitting-room and helped her kindle the
fire in the big chimney.
"Well, what has happened?" he asked, when the red flames were rolling
up from the heap of split pine under the logs.
"It's about Mis' Dawson," announced Mrs. Bradley, as she sank into a
big chair and began to unpin her shawl. "She's got religion!"
"You don't mean it!"
"Yes, an' I'm what give it to her--me, an' nobody else. I'm a purty
thing to be talkin' that way, but it's the livin' truth. I caused it.
When I seed her git up an' go acrost to you and drive you clean off, I
got so mad I could a-choked her. I wus sittin' by Brother Tim
Mitchell. You don't know 'im, I reckon, but he's the biggest bull-dog
preacher 'at ever give out a hymn.
Pages:
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276