She did not move, nor did her
look change. Moreover, she said nothing,
and, being in a hurry, I had to ride
on.
At the foot-bridge over Roaring
Fork I looked back. The woman was
still there, under the hot mid-day sun
and in the dust of the road, motionless.
COURTIN' ON CUTSHIN
Hit was this way, stranger. When
hit comes to handlin' a right peert gal,
Jeb Somers air about the porest man
on Fryin' Pan, I reckon; an' Polly Ann
Sturgill have got the vineg'rest tongue
on Cutshin or any other crick.
So the boys over on Fryin' Pan
made it up to git 'em together. Abe
Shivers--you've heerd tell o' Abe--
tol' Jeb that Polly Ann had seed him
in Hazlan (which she hadn't, of co'se),
an' had said p'int-blank that he was
the likeliest feller she'd seed in them
mountains. An' he tol' Polly Ann
that Jeb was ravin' crazy 'bout her.
The pure misery of it jes made him
plumb delirious, Abe said; an' 'f Polly
Ann wanted to find her match fer languige
an' talkin' out peert--well, she
jes ought to strike Jeb Somers. Fact
is, stranger, Jeb Somers air might' nigh
a idgit; but Jeb 'lowed he'd rack right
over on Cutshin an' set up with Polly
Ann Sturgill; an' Abe tells Polly Ann
the king bee air comin'.
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