"Sartin; the constable was saying so at the hill store only yesterday. The strangling," says he, "might a been got over; but that burying of the poor little critter in the snow was the pint that no lawyer could ixplain."
"Yes; that allus stops a feller's mouth when he sets out to defend her, and yet—"
"What was you a saying?"
"And yet I can't bleave she really did it."
"It's unnatural; but facts are facts."
"Poor critter; I wonder if she's told any thing about its father yet. The feller ought to be hung fifty times where she had once."
"I reckon not; the old woman said that her daughter was married, at the examination, but she would not name the man, and people were left to guess."
"Was it Nelson Thrasher, do you really think?"
"There's no telling, and maybe it wont come out till court day."
"And when it does, what'll the law do with him?"