"But tell me something more about it," persisted the judge.
"Least said soonest mended; I ain't a female traitor and spy, nor nothing of that sort! what you've got you've got! It ain't of no consequence where you got it, or how you got it, it's there, and that's enough?"
"But, but"—
"I'm in a hurry, the dishes ain't washed up yet."
"Indeed Salina you must tell me!"
Salina folded her blanket-shawl tightly around her upright person.
"Judge Sharp, it's of no use—I'm flint."
With these words that strong-minded female turned, with her nose in the air, and left the room, planting her footsteps with great firmness, as if she meant by their very sound to impress the judge with the strength of her determination.
"I hate the woman like rank poison," she said while wading through the stubble behind uncle Nat's barn on her way home, "but her name is Farnham, and it'd be mean as a nigger and meaner too for me to say a word about that document; let Judge Sharp cipher out his own sums if he wants to, I ain't a-going to help him—there!"
With this exclamation, the strong-minded woman returned home, perfectly satisfied with her mission and herself.