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Dixon, Thomas, 1864-1946

"The Southerner A Romance of the Real Lincoln"

Somehow the love o' the woods an'
fields is always singin' in my heart. Them still shinin' stars up in the
sky out thar to-night keep a callin' me. I could hear the music o' my
hounds in my soul ez I stood by the spring a while ago. Ye know what
scares me most ter death sometimes, gal?" He paused and looked into her
eyes intently.
"No, what?" she asked.
"That you'll make a carpenter outen me yit ef I don't mind."
Again a smile broke through the cloud in her eyes: "I don't think
there's much danger of _that_, Tom----"
"Yes ther is, too," he laughed. "Ye see, I love you so and try ter make
ye happy, an' ef there wuz ter come er time that there wuz plenty o'
work an' real money in it, I'd stick to it jist ter please you, an' be a
lost an' ruined soul! Yessir, they'd carve on my headstone jest one
line:
"BORN A MAN--AND DIED A JACKLEG CARPENTER.
"Wouldn't that be awful?"
The momentary smile on the woman's sensitive face faded into a look of
pain. She tried to make a good-natured reply, but her lips refused to
move.
The man pressed on eagerly:
"O Nancy, why can't ye be happy here? We've a snug little cabin nest,
we've enough to eat and enough to wear. The baby's laughin' at yer heels
all day and snugglin' in her little bed at night. The birds make music
fur ye in the trees.


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