"
"That sounds like Harnah, anyway," muttered Mehitable
contemptuously.
"Yes, it's more uv an idee than you'd 'a been likely to git off,
ain't it, Hit?" asked Seth with a malicious grin, and winking at the
company.
But Mehitable preserving a prudent silence, and only showing her
feelings by an accelerated movement of her knitting-needles, her
husband elevated his eyes again to the ceiling, recrossed his legs,
and continued:--
"I scrambled up the back of the clift easy enough; and, sure enough,
there was the posies, all in blow, and tossing their heads at me as
if they knowed how pooty they was, and dared me not to say so.
Somehow they made me think of Harnah; and I spoke right out,--
"'Yes, I know you be; and I hain't never said you ain't as pooty a
cretur as walks the airth: but I wish you wan't so awful
changeable.'
"Then I laffed right out, to think I was talking to a lot of flowers
same as if they was a gal; and, when I done laffin', I went down on
my knees, and begun to pick 'em. But I hadn't more than got the
first fist-ful when I heerd a groan, a sort uv a faint holler groan,
that sounded as if it come right out uv the ground underneath me. I
dropped the flowers, and riz right up on eend. My ha'r riz too; for
I was scaart, I tell you.
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