they would be a awful bust of language come up
from that hole where that unreginerate old sinner
was cooped up in.

I have travelled around considerable since them
days, and I have mixed up along of many kinds
of people in many different places, and some of 'em
was cussers to admire. But I never hearn such
cussing before or since as old Hank done that night.
He busted his own records and riz higher'n his own
water marks for previous times. I wasn't nothing
but a little kid then, and skeercly fitten fur to ad-
mire the full beauty of it. They was deep down
cusses, that come from the heart. Looking back
at it after all these years, I can believe what Brother
Cartwright said himself that night, that it wasn't
natcheral cussing and some higher power, like a
demon or a evil sperrit, must of entered into Hank's
human carkis and give that turrible eloquence to
his remarks. It busted out every few minutes,
and the women would put their fingers into their
ears till a spell was over. And it was personal, too.
Hank, he would listen until he hearn a woman's
voice that he knowed, and then he would let loose
on her fambly, going backwards to her grandfathers
and downwards to her children's children. If her
father had once stolen a hog, or her husband done
any disgrace that got found out on him, Hank would
put it all into his gineral remarks, with trimmings
onto it.