e last lick I ever strike on this side of Jordin. Frank
Air looked at me, and seemed to know what I was a thinkin', and says
he, "Bill, jest let Allcorn alone. He's too big for you, and besides,
there ain't nothin' to fite about." By this time Jim was makin' rite
towards us. I put myself in position, and by the time he got to us every
muscle in my body was strung as tite as a banjo. I was worked up
powerful, and felt like I could whip a campmeetin' of wild cats. Shore
enuf Jim stepped up defiantly, and lookin' me rite in the eye, says he,
"I dare anybody to hit that," and he touched his knuckles to his
forrerd. He had barely straightened before I took him rite in the left
eye with a sock-dolyger that popped like a wagin' whip. It turned him
half round, and as quick as lightnin' I let him hav another on the right
temple, and followed it up with a leap that sprawled him as flat as a
foot mat. I knowed my customer, and I never giv him time to rally. If
ever a man was diligent in business it was me. I took him so hard and so
fast in the eyes with my fists, and in his bred basket with my knees,
that he didn't hav a chance to see or to breathe, and he was the worst
whipped man in two minets I ever seed in my life. When he hollered I
helped him up and breshed the dirt off his clothes, and he was as umble
as a ded nigger and as sober as a Presbyterian preacher. We took a dram
on the strength of it, and was always good frends afterwards.

But I dident start to tell you about that.

JIM PERKINS (COUSIN OF ELI)

I jist wanted to say that I wasent mad with Jim Allcorn, as sum peepul
supposed; but it do illustrate the onsertainty of human kalkulashuns in
this subloonery world. The disappintments of life are amazin', and if a
man wants to fret and grumble at his luck he can find a reesunable
oppertunity to do so every day that he lives. Them sort of
constitutional grumblers ain't much cumpany to me. I'd rather be Jim
Perkins with a bullit hole through me and take my chances. Jim, you
know, was shot down at Gains' Mill, and the ball went in at the
umbilikus, as Dr. Battey called it, and cum out at the backbone. The
Doktor sounded him, and sez he, "Jeems, my friend, your wound is
mortal." Jim looked at the Doktor, and then at me, and sez he, "That's
bad, ain't it?" "Mighty bad," sez I, and I was as sorry for him as I
ever was for anybody in my life. Sez he, "Bill, I'd make a will if it
warn't for one thing." "What's that, Jim?" sez