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JOHN FOX, JR.
`Hell fer Sartain' and Other Stories
TO MY BROTHER JAMES
AUTHOR'S NOTE
CONTENTS
ON HELL-FER-SARTAIN CREEK THROUGH THE GAP A TRICK
O' TRADE GRAYSON'S BABY COURTIN' ON CUTSHIN THE
MESSAGE IN THE SAND THE SENATOR'S LAST TRADE
PREACHIN' ON KINGDOM-COME THE PASSING OF ABRAHAM
SHIVERS A PURPLE RHODODENDRON
ON HELL-FER-SARTAIN CREEK
Thar was a dancin'-party Christmas night on ``Hell fer Sartain.'' Jes tu'n
up the fust crick beyond the bend thar, an' climb onto a stump, an'
holler about ONCE, an' you'll see how the name come. Stranger, hit's
HELL fer sartain! Well, Rich Harp was thar from the head- waters, an'
Harve Hall toted Nance Osborn clean across the Cumberlan'. Fust one
ud swing Nance, an' then t'other. Then they'd take a pull out'n the same
bottle o' moonshine, an'--fust one an' then t'other--they'd swing her agin.
An' Abe Shivers a-settin' thar by the fire a-bitin' his thumbs!
Well, things was sorter whoopin', when somebody ups an' tells Harve
that Rich had said somep'n' agin Nance an' him, an' somebody ups an'
tells Rich that Harve had said somep'n' agin Nance an' HIM. In a
minute, stranger, hit was like two wild-cats in thar. Folks got 'em parted,
though, but thar was no more a-swingin' of Nance that night. Harve
toted her back over the Cumberlan', an' Rich's kinsfolks tuk him up
``Hell fer Sartain''; but Rich got loose, an' lit out lickety-split fer Nance
Osborn's. He knowed Harve lived too fer over Black Mountain to go
home that night, an' he rid right across the river an' up to Nance's house,
an' hollered fer Harve. Harve poked his head out'n the loft--he knowed
whut was wanted--an' Harve says, ``Uh, come in hyeh an' go to bed.
Hit's too late!'' An' Rich seed him a-gapin' like a chicken, an' in he
walked, stumblin' might' nigh agin the bed whar Nance was a-layin',
listenin' an' not sayin' a word.
Stranger, them two fellers slept together plum frien'ly, an' they et
together plum frien'ly next mornin', an' they sa'ntered down to the
grocery plum frien'ly. An' Rich says, ``Harve,'' says he, ``let's have a
drink.'' ``All right, Rich,'' says Harve. An' Rich says, ``Harve,'' says he,
``you go out'n that door an' I'll go out'n this door.'' ``All right, Rich,''
says Harve, an' out they walked, steady, an' thar was two shoots shot,
an' Rich an' Harve both drapped, an' in ten minutes they was stretched
out on Nance's bed an' Nance was a-lopin' away fer the yarb doctor.
The gal nussed 'em both plum faithful. Rich didn't hev much to say, an'
Harve didn't hev much to say. Nance was sorter quiet, an' Nance's
mammy, ole Nance, jes grinned. Folks come in to ax atter 'em right
peart. Abe Shivers come cl'ar 'cross the river--powerful frien'ly--an'
ever' time Nance ud walk out to the fence with him. One time she didn't
come back, an' ole Nance fotched the boys thar dinner, an' ole Nance
fotched thar supper, an' then Rich he axed whut was the matter with
young Nance. An' ole Nance jes snorted. Atter a while Rich says:
``Harve,'' says he, ``who tol' you that I said that word agin you an'
Nance?'' ``Abe Shivers,'' says Harve. ``An' who tol' you,'' says Harve,
``that I said that word agin Nance an' YOU?'' ``Abe Shivers,'' says Rich.
An' both says, ``Well, damn me!'' An' Rich tu'ned right over an' begun
pullin' straws out'n the bed. He got two out, an' he bit one off, an' he
says: ``Harve,'' says he, ``I reckon we better draw fer him. The shortes'
gits him.'' An' they drawed. Well, nobody ever knowed which got the
shortes' straw, stranger, but--
Thar'll be a dancin'-party comin' Christmas night on ``Hell fer Sartain.''
Rich Harp 'll be thar from the head- waters. Harve Hall's a-goin' to tote
the Widder Shivers clean across the Cumberlan'. Fust one 'll swing
Nance, an' then t'other. Then they'll take a pull out'n the same bottle o'
moonshine, an'--fust one an' then t'other-- they'll swing her agin, jes the
same. ABE won't be thar. He's a-settin' by a bigger fire, I reckon
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