goin' to git kilt, that's all."

"An' you men is goin' to stand that from the railroad? Why don't you
make them pay for whut gits kilt?"

"Well, now, Sar' Ann," said her husband, conciliatorily, "that's just
whut I was goin' to say. The time the fust man come down through heah
to talk about buildin' the railroad, he done said, like I tol' you
Cunnel Blount said, that we might git some stock kilt fer a little
while, till things kind o' got used to it, you know; but he 'lowed
that the railroad would sort o' pay for anything that got kilt like,
you know."

"Pay! The railroad goin' to pay you!" Again the remorseless sunbonnet
followed its victim and fixed him with its focus. "Pay you! I didn't
notice no money layin' on the track where we come along this mawnin',
did you? Yes, I reckon it's goin' to pay you, a whole heap!" The
scorn of this utterance was limitless, and Jim Bowles felt his
insignificance in the untenable position which he had assumed.

"Well, I dunno," said he, vaguely, and sighed softly; all of which
irritated Mrs. Bowles to such an extent that she flounced suddenly
around to get a better gaze upon her master. In this movement, her
foot struck the pail of milk which had been sitting near, and
overturned it.

"Jinny," she called out, "you, Jinny!"

"Yassam," replied Jinny, from some place on the gallery.