“Well, Sir, go on.”
“Well, then I led the brown mare over tu Dill’s, an ast Miss Dill—”
“You mean Mrs. Dill, his wife?”
“Yeas, Miss Dill. I ast Miss Dill ef Mr. Dill was tu hum, an’ she sed,
“ ‘No, he’s deown tu the lick b’low Andrewses’ mill, arter deer. What you want?’ says she.
“ ‘I want to get the nails clenched to the mare’s off-hind foot,’ sez I.
“ ‘Wal,’ sez she, ‘can’t yeu du it yerself?’
“ ‘Wal,’ says I, ‘I guess I can.’
“So she showed me whar the horse-nails war, an’ giv’ me the hammer, an’ I put on Dill’s leather apron, an’ at it I went. I got in three nails right snug, and clenched them, an’ was drivin’ deown the third, when the mare shied at suthen, and shoved her foot a-one side, an’ the hammer cum deown caslap! right on this there thumb-nail. You see” (holding it up) “it’s not growed eout yit.”
“But what has that to do with the talk at Gillis’s store?”