“You’re as crazy as a bedbug,” she said. “Why, I never heard of such a thing.”
She stepped over in front of me and very seriously asked if she could look in my eyes.
“Look in my eyes?” I said. “What do you want to do that for? I’m not sick.”
“Yes, you are, Billy,” she said, “very sick. Mama said when Old Man Johnson went crazy, his eyes turned green. I want to see if yours have.”
This was too much. “If you don’t get out of here,” I shouted, “you’re going to be red instead of green, and I mean that.”
I grabbed up a stick and started toward her. Of course, I wouldn’t have hit her for anything.
This scared her and she started for the house. I heard her saying something about an old coon as she disappeared in the underbrush.
Down in the bottom of my lunch bucket I found a neat little package of scraps for my dogs.
While they were eating I walked down to a spring and filled the bucket with cool water.
The food did wonders for me. My strength came back.
I spit on my hands and, whistling a coon hunter’s tune, I started making the chips fly.
The cut grew so big I could have laid down in it. I moved over to another side and started a new one.
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