I never knew father to say it so impressively before, because Amos had been so bad, people really were afraid of him, and father said if once he got started right, he would go at it just as hard as he had gone at wrongdoing.

I suppose I shouldn't have said it about a fox, when there were the Dorkings, and ham, and white wool dresses, and all that, but honestly, I couldn't remember that I cared particularly whether Amos Hurd was redeemed or not; he was always lovely to children; while I never in all my life had wanted anything worse than I wanted those foxes to save their skins.

I could hear them pant like run out dogs; and I could hear myself, and I hadn't been driven from my home and babies, maybe--and chased miles and miles, either.
Then I just shook.

They came pounding, roaring and braying right around the barn, and down the lane.

The little door flew open and a strange man stuck in his head.
"Shut that door!" I screamed.