“Its dog-goned impidence an’ meddlesomeness,” he fumed. “An’ if ’twarn’t for makin’ bad wuss, by givin’ him another tale to yelp over, I’d b’ar-bait that thar outdacious varmint in his own hollow. What sort o’ trick is it to play on a fellow, to set all the state o’ Virginny grinning like a ’possum at him bekase his own wife didn’t have enough gumption to know him from a b’ar?”
At which protest his neighbors howled with derision and unfeelingly reminded him that when certain adventures of theirs had been made public through the same medium he, Tom, had considered the matter vastly amusing.
Drawn by Clinton Peters.
TO ——
Thus I had dreamed in loving thee: