"Don't talk about it, Laz."
"All right. Good-day."
When he was gone the old man resumed his walk, musing: "Don't want to see nuthin' red on the ground."
He took out his knife, put his foot on a chair, and began to cut his shoe-strings. As he was cutting the string from the other shoe his wife, peeping round at him, inquired:
"Whut you do that fur?"
"I don't want to die with them on if I kin help it." And shutting his knife with a snap he resumed his walk up and down the room. "And I am a fixin' 'em so I kin kick 'em off."
"For mercy sake, Jasper, don't talk thatter way."
His sense of humor came back to him. "Oh, I may not have to kick 'em off. It wouldn't surprise me if somebody else done the kickin'. But it's better to be prepared. The good Book says—"
"Oh, now, the good Book don't say no sich of a thing, and you know it. What makes you allus want to fetch in the good Book? Don't you know it say, 'Thou shan't kill?' Don't you?"
"Yes, but I ain't found whar it say, 'Thou shall let a feller kill you.'"