"I've been
a-thinkin' a leetle sence readin' 'bout them signs o' gas, b'gosh! I
hain't been only thinkin', but I've been a-recollectin', an' the chances
is th't me an' you'll see wonders yet afore we paddle over Jurdan. I'm
a-gointer tell ye fer w'y, but I hadn't orter, Squire, an' if it wa'n't
fer makin' ye 'shamed o' yerself, an' showin' th't truth squashed in the
mud is bound to git up agin if ye give her time, I wouldn't do it. Ye
mowt remember th't jist ten years ago this month I kim in from a leetle
b'ar hunt. I didn't bring in no b'ar, but I fotched back an up-an'-up
account o' how I had shot one, on' how th' were sumpin' fearful an'
queer an' amazin' in the p'formances o' that b'ar arter bein' shot.
Mebby ye 'member me a-tellin' ye that story, Squire, an' you a-tellin'
me right in my teeth th't ye know'd th't some o' yer friends had took to
lyin', but th't ye didn't think any of 'em had it so bad ez that. But I
hain't a-holdin' no gredge, an' now I'll tell ye sumpin' that'll s'prise
ye.
"Ez I tol' ye at the time, Squire, I got the tip ten year ago this
month, th't unless somebody went up to Steve Groner's hill place an'
poured a pound or two o' lead inter a big b'ar th't had squatted on tha'
farm, th't Steve wouldn't hev no live-stock left to pervide pork an'
beef fer his winterin' over, even if he managed to keep hisself an'
fam'ly theirselfs from linin' the b'ar's innards.
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