"Bless yo' heart, they won't try to!" said Yancy reassuringly.
"Sunday's a day of rest at Scratch Hill. So are most of the
other days of the week, but we all aspire to take just a little
mo' rest on Sunday than any other day. Sometimes we ain't able
to, but that's our aim."

"Do you know the old deserted cabin by the big pine?--the Blount
place?" asked Mrs. Ferris.

"Yes, ma'am, I know it."

"I am going to have Sunday-school there for those children; they
shan't be neglected any longer if I can help it--I should feel
guilty, quite guilty! Now won't you let your little nephew come?
Perhaps they'll not find it so very terrible, after all." From
which Mr. Yancy concluded that when she invaded it, skepticism
had rested as a mantle on Scratch Hill.

"Every one said we would better talk with you, Mr. Yancy, and we
were hoping to meet you as we came along," supplemented Miss
Malroy, and her words of flattery were wafted to him with so
sweet a smile that Yancy instantly capitulated.

"I reckon you-all can count on my nevvy," he said.

When he reached Scratch Hill, in the waning light of day,
Hannibal, in a state of high excitement, met him at the log shed,
which served as a barn.