You ain't got no call ter be scared I'll do hit again." When they were nearing the house, Judy stopped again, and, for a long minute, looked silently out over the moonlit river, while Brian stood watching her.
"Hit is pretty, ain't hit, Mr.Burns ?" she said at last.

"With the hills all so soft an'-- an' dreamy-like, an' them clouds a-floatin' 'way up there over the top of Table Mountain; with the moon makin' 'em all silvery an' shiny 'round the edges, an' them trees on yon side the river lookin' like they was made er smoke er fog er somethin' like that; an' the old river hitself a-layin' there in The Bend like--like a long strip of shinin' gold,--hit sure is pretty! Funny, I couldn't never see hit that a-way before,--ain't hit ?" "Yes, Judy; it is beautiful to-night," he said.
But Judy, apparently without hearing him, continued: "'Seems like I can sense a little ter-night what Auntie Sue an' youuns are allus a-talkin' 'bout the river,--'bout hit's bein' like life an' sich as that.

An' hit 'pears like I kin kind of git a little er what you done wrote 'bout hit in your book,--'bout the currents an' the still places an' the rough water an' all.

I reckon as how I'm a part of your river, too, ain't I, Mr.Burns ?" "Yes, Judy," he answered, wonderingly; "we are all parts of the river." "I reckon you're right," she continued.

"Hit sure 'pears ter be that a-way.