"Ha' ye got th' fodder all in?" queried his wife, with much interest.
"Ya'as; finished ter-day; that's all safe; but er rain 'ould interfere
mightily wi' pickin' out cotton up in th' swamp, 'n' it's openin, mighty
fast; shouldn't be s'prised ef some er that swamp don't fetch er bale ter
th' acre, 'n' we'll have er right purty lot o' cotton, even atter th'
rent's paid out"; and Father Tyler, with much complacency, lighted his pipe
with a coal from the hearth.
"Th' gals 'll soon ha' this erround th' house all picked out; they got
purty nigh over it ter-day, 'n' ther'll likely be one more scatterin'
pickin'," said Mother Tyler.
Here a starched rustling on the stairs betokened the descent of Mandy
Calline. Pushing back the door, she stepped down with all the dignity which
she deemed suitable to don with her present attire.
A new calico dress of a blue ground, with a bright yellow vine rambling up
its lengths, adorned her round, plump figure; her glossy black hair was
plaited, and surmounted with a huge red bow, the ends of which fluttered
out bravely; as she stepped slowly into the room, busying herself pulling a
basting out of her sleeve.
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