Читать книгу Goose Creek Folks. A Story of the Kentucky Mountains онлайн

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Martin watched him disappear down the slope in silent astonishment. He had supposed Dan Gooch would be the last one to see the “needcessity of larnin’,” and here he was the champion of their cause against their own father.

Talitha was briskly clearing away the supper dishes when a couple mounted on one horse rode up to the door. “Howdy!” greeted Sam Coyle, lounging forward with a show of cordiality.

“Shad ’lowed he seen a gal and boy tromp-in’ ’cross the mounting this mornin’, and I sez hit wan’t nobody but Mart and Tally,” said the old woman, slipping cautiously to the ground.

“You war a true prophet fer once, Ann, but I’d be bound nobody’d known ’em anywhere else,” declared her brother.

“Plumb spiled, most likely,” grumbled Ann. From the depths of her black, slatted sunbonnet the gimlet eyes keenly scrutinized her nephew and niece. “Well, you air growed up fer sure, and I reckon you know more’n the old schoolmaster hisself. Thar ain’t nothin’ like the insurance o’ young-uns thet’s got a leetle larnin’,” pursued the old woman with acerbity. “Now what I want ter know is, what kin you do thet the gals and boys what never seen Bentville, can’t?” Ann Bills had seated herself before the fireplace, removed her sunbonnet, and was lighting the pipe she had taken from her pocket.