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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Southern Lights and Shadows"

But I give you fair warnin', Tobe Cullum, that ef you don't go, I'll
never speak to you again whilse my head is hot."
Tobe snorted incredulously; but he sneaked out to the stable after her, and
when she had saddled and mounted Buster, he followed her on foot, running
noiselessly some distance behind her, keeping her well in sight, and
dodging into the deeper shadows when she chanced to look around.
"I didn't know Sissy had so much spunk," he muttered, panting in her wake
at last across the shinn-oak prairie. "Lord, how blazin' mad she is! But
shucks! she'll git over it by mornin'."
Mr. Hines was shivering with cold. He still whistled mechanically, but the
hand that held the sputtering candle shook to the trip-hammer thumping of
his heart. "The balance of 'em must of got lost," he thought, listening to
the lonesome howl of the wind across the prairie. "It's too c-cold for
snipe, I reckon. I wisht I'd staid at home. I c-can't w-whistle any
longer," he whimpered aloud, dropping the candle-end, the last spark of
courage oozing out of his nerveless fingers. He stood up, straining his
eyes down the black gully and across the dreary waste around him.


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