w pigs followed
her closely and shamefacedly."]

After making the acquaintance and hearing the family history of various
chickens, turkeys, guineas and geese, I was taken up the hollow to the
famous pawpaw patch, scene of innumerable 'possum hunts. Here even Ponto
showed lively memories of past victories, while Keats, Hen and Hiram all
talked at once, describing combats, and pointing out the very trees and
logs. Some details of natural history I was able to gather from the
confusion, such as: possums allus sull-up when they are kotch; boar
possums does a heap of fighting, and it's a sight to hear their noses
crack when they are at it, and the best sport ever seed is to ketch two
and sic 'em ag'in each other; sow-possums do not fight, and the young
uns curl their tails round their maw's and ride on her back when she
travels; and, finally, possums are a master-race for wiles, and it is
the mark of a man to be able to outwit them.

But darkness was beginning to fall, and when the gourd-horn blew for
supper, nobody tarried on the way down. Oh, what beans, what "'taters,"
what "roasting-years," what corn-bread, and above all, what a noble
vinegar-pie! Nervesty's reputation was fully sustained,--dangerously so,
I feared, as I watched the boys gorge.

Then, while Mrs. Salyer and Keats went out to milk after supper, Hen and
Susanna and Neely and I washed up the dishes; and while we were at it,
Hiram and Jason were pulled apart, Jason with a gouged eye and a bitten
arm, Hiram with a bloody nose and a raked shin. Then, Mrs. Salyer and
Keats returning, and everybody being very sleepy indeed, we all went to
bed in "t'other house," the little girls and I in one bed, Mrs. Salyer,
Sammy and Keats in a second, and Hiram, Hen and Jason in the third (Hen
in the middle). We had some general conversation after retiring, and it
was all very happy and sociable. And of course Ponto slept in the room,
too, and when, faithful guardian, he was not running to the door to
growl at imaginary intruders, he was thumping his tail on the floor, or
turning round and round before the fire to settle himself to his
satisfaction.

Saturday morning, Keats, Hen and even I tried to beg off from the
funeral occasion; but of course it was useless; and there was a busy
time getting ready to start. A little past noon, I, on Mandy, with
Susanna behind me, and Mrs. Salyer on Charlie, with Sammy before and
Neely behind, reached the top of Bee Tree Gap, and looked