"You don't have to talk so loud anyhow," his wife persisted.
"Ole woman, I'm free, white, and twenty-one. I've been a-votin' and watchin' the elections in this country for twenty odd years. Ef I've got to tiptoe around, ashamed of my raisin', and ashamed of my principles, I don't want to live. I wouldn't be fit ter live."
"I want ye to live."
"You wouldn't want to live with a coward."
"A brave man can hold his tongue, John."
"I ain't never learnt the habit, Honey."
"Won't you begin?"
"Ye can't learn a old dog new tricks—can they, Jack?"
He stroked his dog's friendly nose suddenly thrust against his knee.
"You know, Honey," he went on laughingly, "we brought this yellow pup from Old Virginia. He's the best rabbit and squirrel dog in the county. I've taught him to stalk prairie chickens out here. I'd be ashamed to look my dog in the face ef I wuz ter tuck my tail between my legs and run every time a fool blows off his mouth about the South—"