“Oh, that ain’t any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town some day and get his claws on it if I didn’t hurry up, and I tell you he’d clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?”

“I’m going to buy a new drum, and a sure’nough sword, and a red necktie and a bull pup, and get married.”

“Married!”

“That’s it.”

“Tom, you — why, you ain’t in your right mind.”

“Wait — you’ll see.”

“Well, that’s the foolishest thing you could do.

Look at pap and my mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty well.”