“You’ll be hung long before Israel Spurlock!” she cried, her voice thick with anger. Before another word had been said she swept from the room, leaving Chadwick sitting there with his mouth wide open.
“Don’t let Polly pester you,” said Uncle Billy, smiling a little at Chadwick’s discomfiture. “She thinks the world an’ all of Sister Spurlock, an’ she’s been a-knowin’ Israel a mighty long time.”
“Yes,” said Aunt Crissy, with a sigh; “the poor child is hot-headed an’ high-tempered. I reckon we’ve sp’ilt ’er. ’T ain’t hard to spile a gal when you hain’t got but one.”
Before Chadwick could make reply a shrill, querulous voice was heard coming from the room into which Polly had gone. The girl had evidently aroused some one who was more than anxious to engage in a war of words.
“Lord A’mighty massy! whar’s any peace?” the shrill voice exclaimed. “What chance on the top side of the yeth is a poor sick creetur got? Oh, what makes you come a-tromplin’ on the floor like a drove of wild hosses, an’ a-shakin’ the clabberds on the roof? I know! I know!”—the voice here almost rose to a shriek,—“it’s ’cause I’m sick an’ weak, an’ can’t he’p myself. Lord! ef I but had strength!”
At this point Polly’s voice broke in, but what she said could only be guessed by the noise in the next room.
“Well, what ef the house an’ yard was full of ’em? Who’s afeard? After Spurlock? Who keers? Hain’t Spurlock got no friends on Sugar Mountain? Ef they are after Spurlock, ain’t Spurlock got as good a right for to be after them? Oh, go ’way! Gals hain’t got no sense. Go ’way! Go tell your pappy to come here an’ he’p me in my cheer. Oh, go on!”
Polly had no need to go, however. Uncle Billy rose promptly and went into the next room.
“Hit’s daddy,” said Aunt Crissy, by way of explanation. “Lord! daddy used to be a mighty man in his young days, but he’s that wasted wi’ the palsy that he hain’t more ’n a shadder of what he was. He’s jes like a baby, an’ he’s mighty quar’lsome when the win’ sets in from the east.”