"
"You done the best you could," George Olver answered stoutly, "They said
you dove for him long and long after it wasn't no use."
"No use," Luther repeated, shaking his head sadly and abstractedly; "no
use."
"There's naught in a sign, anyway," George Olver affirmed.
"They don't worry me much, you can depend"--the player looked up at
length with a singularly bright and gentle smile. "But Grannie, she
believes in 'em, truly. She's got a sign in a dream for everything,
Grannie has so I hear lots of it."
Harvey Dole had quite recovered by this time from his tearfully
sentimental mood.
"Now it's strange," he began, with an air of mysterious solemnity; "there
was three nights runnin' that I dreamed I found a thousand-dollar bill to
the right hand corner of my bury drawer, and every mornin' when I woke up
and went to git it--it wa'n't there, so I know the rats must 'a' carried
it off in the night, and a pretty shabby trick to play on a feller,
too--but then you can't blame the poor devils for wantin' a little pin
money.
"Did I ever tell ye how Uncle Randal tried to clear 'em out 'o his barn?
Wall, he traded with Sim Peck up to West Wallen, a peck o' clams for an
old cat o' hisn, that was about the size, Uncle Randal said, of a
yearlin' calf, and he turned her into the barn along o' the rats, and
shut the door, and the next mornin', he went out and there was a few
little pieces of fur flyin' around and devil a--devil a cat! Uncle Randal
said.
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