"What now, Jim?"
"Gals!" White fairly spit out the word. "Gals!" There was an eloquent
pause, then more quietly: "Jest when yo' place 'em and hate 'em proper,
they up and do somethin' to melt yo' like snow on Lone Dome in May. I
was harkin' back to the little white hen and Nella-Rose. There ain't
much chance to have a livin' pet up to Greyson's place. Anything fit to
eat is et. Pete drinks the rest. But once Nella-Rose came totin' up here
on a cl'ar, moonlight evenin' with somethin' under her little, old
shawl. 'Jim' she says--wheedlin' and coaxin'--'I want yo' to keep this
here hen fo' me. I'll bring its keep, but I love it, and I can't see
it--killed!' That gal don't never let tears fall--they jest wet her eyes
and make 'em shine. With that she let loose the most owdacious white
bantam and scattered some corn on the floor; then she sat down and
laughed like an imp when the foolish thing hopped up to her and flopped
onter her lap. Well, I kept the sassy little hen--there wasn't anything
else ter do--but one day Marg, she followed Nella-Rose up and when she
saw what was going on, she stamped in and cried out: 'So! yo' can have
playthings while us-all go starved! Yo' can steal what's our'n,--an'
with that she took the bantam and fo' I could say a cuss, she wrung that
chicken's neck right fo' Nella-Rose's eyes!"
"Good Lord!" exclaimed Conning; "the young brute! And the other
one--what did she do?"
"She jest looked at me--her eyes swimmin'.
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