But it didnt.
There was only th wind,
Sighin through the laylock leaves,
An slappinem up agin the house.
Well, I guess I looked at that hand
Most ten minits,
An it never moved,
Jest lay there white as white.
After a while I got to thinkin that o course
Twas some drunken tramp over from Redfield.
That calmed me some,
An I commenced to think Id better git him out
From under them laylocks.
I planned to drag him in t th barn
An lock him in ther till Clarence come in th mornin.
I got so mad thinkin that all-fired brazen tramp
Asleep in my laylocks,
I jest stooped down and grabbed th hand and give it an awful pull.
Then I bumped right down settin on the ground.
Mis Priest, ther warnt no body come with the hand.
No, it aint cold, its jest that I cant abear thinkin of it,
Evn now.
Ill take a sip o tea.
Thank you, Mis Priest, thats better.
Id ruther finish now Ive begun.
Thank you, jest the same.
I dropped the hands ef itd ben red hot
Stead o ice cold.
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