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cherry pit
cherry pit
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Description
skies,
Till black as night the swelling tempest shows,
The cloud condensing as the west-wind blows:
He dreads the impending storm, and drives his flock
To the close covert of an arching rock.
Such, and so thick, the embattled squadrons stood,
With spears erect, a moving iron wood:
A shady light was shot from glimmering shields,
And their brown arms obscured the dusky fields.
"O heroes! worthy such a dauntless train,
Whose godlike virtue we but urge in vain,
(Exclaim'd th
Details
the high board fence. There was an inch of new snow on the
ground, and I seen somebody's tracks. They had come up from the quarry
and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden
fence. It was funny they hadn't come in, after standing around so. I
couldn't make it out. It was very curious, somehow. I was going to
follow around, but I stooped down to look at the tracks first. I didn't
notice anything at first, but next I did. There was a cross in the left
boot-heel made with big nails, to keep off the devil.
I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my
shoulder every now and then, but I didn't see nobody. I was at Judge
Thatcher's as quick as I could get there. He said:
“Why, my boy, you are all out of breath. Did you come for your
interest?”
“No, sir,” I says; “is there some for me?”
“Oh, yes, a half-yearly is in last night--over a hundred and fifty
dollars. Quite a fortune for you. You had better let me invest it
along with your six thousand, because if you take it you'll spend it.”
“No, sir,” I says, “I don't want to spend it. I don't want it at
all--nor the six thousand, nuther. I want you to take it; I want to give
it to you--the six thousand and all.”
He looked surprised. He couldn't seem to make it out. He says:
“Why, what can you mean, my boy?”
I says, “Don't you ask me no questions about it, please. You'll take
it--won't you?”
He says:
“Well, I'm puzzled. Is something the matter?”
“Please take it,” says I, “and don't ask me nothing--then I won't have to
tell no lies.”
He studied a while, and then he says:
“Oho-o! I think I see. You want to _sell_ all your property to me--not
give it. That's the correct idea.”
Then he wrote something on a paper and read it over, and says:
“There; you see it says 'for a consideration.' That means I have bought
it of you and paid you for it. Here's a dollar for you. Now you sign
it.”
So I signed it, and left.
Miss Watson's nigger, Jim, had a