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The Gray Wolf's Ha'nt   193

wailing note, an epitome, as it were, of
remorse and hopelessness.
   "Dat's des lack po' ole Dan useter
howl," observed Julius, as he reached
for his umbrella, "en w'at I be'n tellin'
you is de reason I doan lack ter see
dat neck er woods cl'ared up. Co'se it
b'longs ter you, en a man kin do ez he
choose' wid 'is own. But ef you gits
rheumatiz er fever en agur, er ef you
er snake-bit er p'isen' wid some yarb er
'nuther, er ef a tree falls on you, er a
ha'ny runs you en makes you git'stracted
in yo' min', lack some folks I knows w'at
went foolin' 'roun' dat piece er lan', you
can't say I neber wa'ned you, suh, en
tol' you w'at you mought look fer en be
sho' ter fin'."

When I cleared up the land in question,
which was not until the following
year, I recalled the story Julius had
told us, and looked in vain for a sunken