jes’ natch’ly lay down an’ died, all fer nothin’, ‘at anybody could see.”

“What was the matter with his preaching?” asked David, and again the whimsical smile played around the old man’s mouth, and his thin lips twitched.

“I reckon thar wa’n’t ‘nuff hell ‘n’ damnation in hit. Our people here on the mountain, they’re right kind an’ soft therselves. They don’t whop ther chillen, nor do nothin’ much ‘cept a shootin’ now an’ then, but that’s only amongst the men. The women tends mostly to the religion, an’ they likes a heap o’ hell ‘n’ damnation. Hit sorter stirs ‘em up an’ gives ‘em somethin’ to chaw on, an’ keeps