"
"Perhaps so; but it will raise splendid corn."
"I dunno," rejoined Julius deprecatorily. "It's so nigh de swamp dat de
'coons'll eat up all de cawn."
"I think I'll risk it," I answered.
"Well, suh," said Julius, "I wushes you much joy er yo' job. Ef you has
bad luck er sickness er trouble er any kin', doan blame _me_. You can't
say ole Julius did n' wa'n you."
"Warn him of what, Uncle Julius?" asked my wife.
"Er de bad luck w'at follers folks w'at 'sturbs dat trac' er Ian'. Dey
is snakes en sco'pions in dem woods. En ef you manages ter 'scape de
p'isen animals, you is des boun' ter hab a ha'nt ter settle wid,--ef you
doan hab two."
"Whose haunt?" my wife demanded, with growing interest.
"De gray wolf's ha'nt, some folks calls it,--but I knows better."
"Tell us about it, Uncle Julius," said my wife. "A story will be a
godsend to-day."
It was not difficult to induce the old man to tell a story, if he were
in a reminiscent mood. Of tales of the old slavery days he seemed indeed
to possess an exhaustless store,--some weirdly grotesque, some broadly
humorous; some bearing the stamp of truth, faint, perhaps, but still
discernible; others palpable inventions, whether his own or not we never
knew, though his fancy doubtless embellished them.
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