The Daily times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1886-1889, 1888-05-01
her bashfulness. an were settin' right

1
gentle oz fawn. an purrin liko a cat
on tho h'arth. only twenty times louder
To cut this contribution to nat raj
hist'ry short. squire. ai0rc night the mex
d.n the 'stoundin' truth busted in on me.
an fcl, like tearin' my hair an thumpin'
my head agin the rocks
I've 'scaped I'm Susc an the gals o
Sugar Swamp. saws ! skinned away.
b'rosh. I'm their love IN the cearin's. an
were Gndn peace in the wildcrne g says
/ an now wat do stiike' \ paint'
saws |. a female paint or ,e-s me. an
artcr seein me, says |, goes an ialis
heels over head and dead in love with me!
Gosht mighty says. llaint none o
the sex proof agin me;
When the truia dropped on mel were
braidin q snare TO Eetch some big front /
had seen in q brook nigh the cave. lawn
no string. ! had chopped with ny jack
knife Il lock o hair often my head 10 braid
an twist inter 4 piece long an strong
enough TO make tho snare The loose
lock | had put III fat tin t bacfei box
th't giner'ly carried bya bucksk'n s'i'ns
round M neck SOS couldn't lose 1t.
t'backer bcin' scace an high. The dis
kiyery o the paint 'cr's haukeTin fer nc
knocked all hankerin Ter trout outen me,
an limpod away TO think IL over lc~Vin
the box whar it laid.
" 'T'morrow night. says |, lame "a l
be- III give the painter the slip
That night she showed by her no.in at
me, an her gincri beai.n'. that she'd l.Ae
to see me in her cave | lit tig pine
knot carried it inside. and stood ii in ono
corner The torch was triIe i.cEcrin',
but ii made the cave hight all over sot
down on a rock Bimeby the painter
went over to the pine knot an scratched
an paved at the light till she put it all
out but little flicker at the top Then
she kinder edged to'ards me, bashiul and
shy. but pooty soon plunked herself
squar in uy lap an laid her head Oh my
shoulder
Gosh mighty says /, if she haint
gone an turned down the light an wants
TO set up all sparl: jest like real gall
81 sprung right up an went out, not
sarin 4 durn wethcr hurt her iceln } OF
not Mex mornin' my leg bein better, |
felt cheered up, an 50 says Ia hev that
mess q trout fore / run away I'm tho
owe sici, paint or anyhow, but couldn't
and my hacker box an Lair The pant
e. d gone on her regular morninls mark
stin'. all / were 'spectin' her back ev'ry
minute Vile were lookin fer my
hacker box see her comm down tho
ridge She were canyin' sumpln IN her
mouth thu boxed queer. were wonder
u Wit v at it could be, W Ell she bounced
inter- the openin ali laid her marketin on
he ground. give ono look at II an Kim
nigh iumpin plumb outen my skin, fer
thar laid little Dominic Ripper, havin'
oeen lugged in by the paintr i'm some
vhar by the seat Of his buckskin breeches!
topped the Dominic over an soon
fetched him 10. helped him up On his
feet an he looked round with his eyes
langih' out like the big eend Of II banty
aens egg. The painter kim up to me
an put her paws on my chist, an she
never looked 50 dunn loyin' at me afOre
Wile She were lookin tn kim report
like q small clap o thunder an nay
paint 'er lell dead at my feet. The little
Dominic stood on t'other side o her with
a pistol nigh foot long, all be had sent
III tht II held clean through the paint er
brain looked down at her eZ she lay
thar dead. an sumpin shiny Oh her breast
ketched my eye. stopped down. Lay
III plumb over her heart, all fssten Il
round her neck by the buckskin string,
were my tin hacker box, with til loc@ o
hair in it.
Squire, that were tetcnin sight, all,
b'gosh had to blubberi
Il tol the Dominic the story the
paint er's love, al he tol lie how he u
been waylaid by her an yanked ia Aiofo
he could say boo.
" But wat in under the blue cannerpy
did she want to fetch you in for: says.
Did she think had tooth Ter Dominic
an buckskin breecbesy
Ono. said the little Dominic Can't
ye see? says he Shed sot her heart on
havin' you. says he, an fetched ne in TO
do the marryin ez sure CT my name Is
Dominic Ripper
Squire"
But the squire was moving toward tho
door, and he went out without a word
leaving the old settler to muse alone on
the queer things nature used to do in tho
olden time Ed Mott in Chicago Herald