pernounced him free from all symptoms o' lockjaw. But when I come
the little feller had crawled 'way back under the bed an' lay
there, eatin' his apple, an' they couldn't git him out. Soon ez
the doctor had teched a poultice to his foot he had woke up an'
put a stop to it, an' then he had went off by hisself where
nothin' couldn't pester him, to enjoy his apple in peace. An' we
never got him out tell he heered us tellin' the doctor good-night.

I tried ever' way to git him out--even took up a coal o' fire an'
poked it under at him; but he thess laughed at that an' helt his
apple agin' it an' made it sizz. Well, sir, he seemed so tickled
that I helt that coal o' fire for him tell he cooked a good big
spot on one side o' the apple, an' et it, an' then, when I took it
out, he called for another, but I didn't give it to him. I don't
see no use in over-indulgin' a child. An' when he knowed the
doctor was gone, he come out an' finished roastin' his apple by
the fire--thess what was left of it 'round the co'e.

Well, sir, we was mightily comforted by the doctor's visit, but
nex' mornin' things looked purty gloomy ag'in. Sonny's Christenin'

That little foot seemed a heap worse, an' he was sort o' flushed
an' feverish, an' wife she thought she heard a owl hoot, an' Rover
made a mighty funny gurgly sound in his th'oat like ez ef he had
bad news to tell us, but didn't have the courage to speak it.

An' then, on top o' that, the nigger Dicey, she come in an' 'lowed
she had dreamed that night about eatin' spare-ribs, which
everybody knows to dream about fresh pork out o' season, which
this is July, is considered a shore sign o' death. Of co'se, wife