"An' what did you do to de painter, Bushie? Kilt him, too, I 'spect."
"No, I just looked cross-eyed at him and skeered him away."
"H-yah, h-yah, h-yah!" laughed the black giant, till the fence shook and rattled.
"Now, Burl," said Bushie, regarding his black chum with great soberness, "didn't you tell me if ever I saw a painter I must skeer him away by looking cross-eyed at him?"
"Look at me, Bushie, de way you did at de painter," said Burl, with a broad grin. "I wants to see how well you've larnt your lesson."
Complying at once, Bushie pulled down and screwed up his quizzical little face in such a marvelous manner that eyes, nose, mouth, and coon-skin cap seemed on the point of breaking out into a family row beyond hope of ever coming again to a good understanding one with another.
"No wonder the varmint was skeered and went screamin' away!" And the black giant laughed till the forest shook to its roots, and every inquisitive squirrel and prying fox within a half mile peered warily forth from its hole to discover what jovial monster this might be that had invaded their leafy wilds. Suddenly checking his laughter, Burl said: "But, Bushie, I forgot to ax you if you axed your modder to let you come out here to de fiel'. Did you?"
"Yes."
"An' she said you might come, did she?"
"Just look up yonder, Burl, and see how the crows have gone to fighting."