Lost Man's Swamp, so called because it was said that one straying into its depths never was able to extricate himself from its overpowering mists and treacherous quicksands, was lonely and forsaken. It lay like a festering sore on the breast of the world—black, menacing, hungry to gulp, dumb as to those mysteries and tragedies it had witnessed. It was whispered that the devil made his home in its pitchy ponds, which even in the fiercest cold of winter did not freeze.,
There's good fish in the sea as has iver been had—,
He said something now, low and guttural, to the woman shaking her fist at him in impotent anger. His voice was almost human in tone, his attitude so sinister that she shuddered. "That's right, swear at me, too," she cried, "add insult to injury, you black imp! If it wasn't fer bein' scared of shootin' myself I'd get the gun an' shoot you, I would so!".
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