He stood awhile, and at length said, “We lost our best rooster when Mrs. Henry came to live hyeh.”
I paid no attention.
“He was a right elegant Dominicker,” he continued.
I felt a little riled about the snapping-turtle, and showed no interest in what he was saying, but continued my functions among the hens. This unusual silence of mine seemed to elicit unusual speech from him.
“Yu' see, that rooster he'd always lived round hyeh when the Judge was a bachelor, and he never seen no ladies or any persons wearing female gyarments. You ain't got rheumatism, seh?”
“Me? No.”
“I reckoned maybe them little odd divers yu' got damp goin' afteh—” He paused.
“Oh, no, not in the least, thank you.”
“Yu' seemed sort o' grave this mawnin', and I'm cert'nly glad it ain't them divers.”
“Well, the rooster?” I inquired finally.