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Billy pinched off a fox-tail stock and chewed it thoughtfully. "Maybe," he said, cheerfully. "He certainly tapped you some, but then you're always huntin' trouble, an' it serves you right." "No, it ain't, 'cause he kin kill a black snake a sight easier than he kin a womper, an' I'll tell you why. Black-snakes have got teeth. They bite. But their backbone is easy broke. A womper hasn't any teeth. He strikes with his bony nose. You know what one of them snakes kin do? You saw that big one, down in Patterson's swamp lay open Moll's face with one slash. They're thick necked, an' take a lot of killin'. This crow kin kill a black-snake with one slash of his bill. He has to choke the womper to death." "Oh, depend upon it. This is a great offer. He is extremely obliging.".
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Therefore after a few days of miserable[Pg 157] anxiety, during which he was remarkable for sobriety and for conspicuous regard to his personal apparel, Mr Lawrence allowed the subject of the letter to slip from his mind, satisfied that it had been reduced to pulp by the wet that had fallen on the morning he lost it, or that it had been blown by some sportive stroke of breeze into a corner, or a place where it was as much lost as if it had dropped from his pocket into the ocean. Maurice let his kindling fall. "Gee!" he exclaimed, "I've got a piece of Injun turnip in my pocket right now. Ain't that lucky!" "Had my supper," shouted Billy. He threw the kindling into the wood box and grinned encouragement at Maurice, who had sunk miserably down on a stool. "Say!" he burst out. "I lied to you, Lou, I didn't fall out o' no tree, I was jest scared plum stiff when you found me, that's all.".
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