“Oh, come now, Mr. Harum,” said John, laughing.
“Wa’al,” said David with a short laugh, “mebbe I did stretch that a little; but ’s I told ye, she wanted to know where I was daytimes well ‘s nights, an’ ev’ry once ’n a while she’d turn up at my bus’nis place, an’ if I wa’n’t there she’d set an’ wait fer me, an’ I’d either have to go home with her or have it out in the office. I don’t mean to say that all the sort of thing I’m tellin’ ye of kep’ up all the time. It kind o’ run in streaks; but the streaks kep’ comin’ oftener an’ oftener, an’ you couldn’t never tell when the’ was goin’ to appear. Matters ’d go along putty well fer a while, an’ then, all of a sudden, an’ fer nothin’ ’t I could see, the’ ’d come on a thunder shower ‘fore you c’d git in out o’ the wet.”
“Singular,” said John thoughtfully.
“Yes, sir,” said David. “Wa’al, it come along to the second spring, ’bout the first of May. She’d ben more like folks fer about a week mebbe ‘n she had fer a long spell, an’ I begun to chirk up some. I don’t remember jest how I got the idee, but f’m somethin’ she let drop I gathered that she was thinkin’ of havin’ a new bunnit. I will say this for her,” remarked David, “that she was an economical woman, an’ never spent no money jest fer the sake o’ spendin’ it. Wa’al, we’d got along so nice fer a while that I felt more ‘n usual like pleasin’ her, an’ I allowed to myself that if she wanted a new bunnit, money shouldn’t stand in the way, an’ I set out to give her a supprise.”
They had reached the level at the top of the long hill and the horses had broken into a trot, when Mr. Harum’s narrative was interrupted and his equanimity upset by the onslaught of an excessively shrill, active, and conscientious dog of the “yellow” variety, which barked and sprang about in front of the mares with such frantic assiduity as at last to communicate enough of its excitement to them to cause them to bolt forward on a run, passing the yellow nuisance, which, with the facility of long practice, dodged the cut which David made at it in passing. It was with some little trouble that the horses were brought back to a sober pace.
“Dum that dum’d dog!” exclaimed David with fervor, looking back to where the object of his execrations was still discharging convulsive yelps at the retreating vehicle, “I’d give a five-dollar note to git one good lick at him. I’d make him holler ‘pen-an’-ink’ once! Why anybody’s willin’ to have such a dum’d, wuthless, pestiferous varmint as that ’round ’s more ’n I c’n understand. I’ll bet that the days they churn, that critter, unless they ketch him an’ tie him up the night before, ’ll be under the barn all day, an’ he’s jest blowed off steam enough to run a dog churn a hull forenoon.”