"I think it will help me," Sanders answered.
"Help you!" And under his breath Gid added: "Ought to kill you."
"What did you say?" Sanders asked.
"Said it wouldn't kill you."
"Oh, I think not. Really, after a while I might be tempted to go out and eat something. How are you gettin' along, Perdue?"
"Shakin' hands with my grandfather in the speret," Perdue declared, and running his fingers through his fiery whiskers he laughed with a hack that cut like the bleat of a sheep.
"Jim," said the Major, turning to Taylor, who had not left his seat, "you'd better try a little. It won't hurt you."
"No, thank you, Major, I'm afraid of it."
"Let him alone," Gid spoke. "One drink of this and he'd carry off the gate, posts and all and leave them on the hill. Don't tempt him."
"Gentlemen," said Perdue, "I have always made it a rule never to repeat anything that my children say, for I know how such a thing bores folks, but I will tell you what my son Ab said the other night. His mother was gettin' him ready for bed—just a little more, Major. There, that's a plenty. Mother was gettin' him ready for bed and he looked up——"