When you get
her at the right place onct--well, nail her down--hand and feet--so's
she can't git away. When she gits mad her little brain evaporates, and
if she had a knife she'd go round stabbing her best friends--that's the
only sing that safes her--yas, and us!--no knife. If she had a knife it
would be funerals following her all the time."
II
They advanced together now, Seffy's father whistling some tune that was
never heard before on earth, and, with his arm in that of his son, they
watched Sally bounding away. Once more, as she leaped a fence, she
looked laughingly back. The old man whistled wildly out of tune. Seffy
waved a hand!
"Now you shouting, Seffy! Shout ag'in!"
"I didn't say a word!"
"Well--it ain't too late! Go on!"
Now Seffy understood and laughed with his father.
"Nice gal, Sef--Seffy!"
"Yes!" admitted Seffy with reserve.
"Healthy."
Seffy agreed to this, also.
"No doctor-bills!" his father amplified.
Seffy said nothing.
"Entire orphen."
"She's got a granny!"
"Yas," chuckled the old man at the way his son was drifting into the
situation--thinking about granny!--"but Sally owns _the farm_!"
"Uhu!" said Seffy, whatever that might mean.
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