"Pore critter," he muttered as he wiped the barrel, "he was down to
his uppers, but this feller------" Mrs. Panel, putting away the supper
things, heard her husband swearing softly to himself. She hesitated a
moment; then she came in, and seeing the pistol, a gasp escaped her.
"What air you doin' with that, Jaspar Panel?"
Uncle Jap coughed.
"There's bin a skunk around," he said. "I've kind o' smelled him for
weeks past, hain't you?"
"I never knowed you to shoot a skunk with anything but a shot-gun."
"That's so. I'd disremembered. Wonder if I kin shoot as straight as I
used ter?"
For answer his wife, usually so undemonstrative, bent down, took the
pistol from his hand, put it back into the drawer, and, slightly
blushing, kissed the old man's cheek.
"Why, Lily, what ails ye?"
His surprise at this unwonted caress brought a faint smile to her thin
lips.
"Nothing."
"Ye ain't tuk a notion that yer goin' to die?"
"Nothing ails me, Jaspar," her voice was strong and steady. "I'm
strong as I was twenty year ago, or nearly so. I kin begin life over
agen, ef I hev to."
"Who said you hed to?" enquired her husband fiercely.
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