“Wal, Mister,’scusin’ my curiosity, but where were you raised? I guess they didn’t know much in them parts. For, I’d rather have ’taters on a piece of new ground. Then corn grows taller en your head in new ground. At fust we go in and cut out all the small trees, and girdle the big ones so that we can go in and clear and break up the new soil, for it’s meller and rich. Then we have loggin’-bees when a new settler comes into the neighborhood. In that way he gets a good boost.”
“Do you have to get up these bees, as you call them? What are bees?” continued our interrogator, who desired to make the most of his opportunity.
“Wal, that’s mighty queer you don’t know what bees are. Why they’re very common in these parts. But say, Mister, you must come from some seaport town where there’s no sich things. I guess you’re mighty green ennyhow, for bees ain’t new aroun’ here. Where air you from? I hain’t seed sich a greeny in all my life,” were the concluding words of Andrews, as he actually laughed aloud.
“I am from Philadelphia, Mr. Andrews,” replied Barclugh, who fully appreciated the confiding nature of the settler.
“But you’re not raised thar,” continued Andrews.
“No, in Paris.”
“But you’re not French.”
“Yes, I speak the language.”
“Do you know Mr. Franklin?”
“Certainly, I came here for him.”