somepin."

"Who said so? Abel?" "Oh, pshaw! D'you suppose I b'lieve anythin' Abel
Reverdy says?" and this gave Reverdy a joy which she shared with him; he
tried to impart it to Mrs. Braile, impassively pouring him a third cup of
coffee. "I jes' met Mis' Leonard comun' up the crossroad, and she tol' me
she saw our claybank hitched here, and I s'picioned Abel was'nt fur off,
and that's why I stopped."

The husband and wife looked across the table in feigned fear and threat
that gave them pleasure beyond speech.

"She didn't say it was your claybank that snorted?" the Squire gravely
inquired.

"Squire Braile, you surely will kill me," and the husband joined the wife
in a shout of laughter. "Now I can't hardly git back to what she
_did_ say. But, I can tell you, it wasn't nawthun' to laugh at.
Plenty of 'em keeled over where they sot, and a lot bounced up and down
like it was a earthquake and pretty near all the women screamed. But he
stood there, straight as a ramrod, and never moved a eye-winker. She said
his face was somepin awful: just as solemn and still! He never spoke after
that one word 'Salvation,' but every once in a while he snorted. Nobody
seen him come in, or ever seen him before till he first snorted, and then
they didn't see anybody else. The preacher, he preached along, and tried
to act like as if nowthun' had happened, but it was no use; nobody didn't
hardly pay no attention to him 'ceptun' the stranger himself; he never
took his eyes off Elder Grove; some thought he was tryun' to charm him,
like a snake does a bird; but it didn't faze the elder."