I jest want t' tell you, you're right smart of a stranger in these here parts, even if you have been a workin' fer Ol' Matt all summer.

You're too blame careful 'bout talkin' 'bout yourself, or tellin' whar you come from, t' suit some folks.

Some strangers are alright, an' again some ain't.

But we don't aim t' have nobody in this here neighborhood what jumps into th' brush when they see an honest man a comin'." As he finished speaking, Gibbs straightened himself in the saddle, and before Mr.Howitt could reply, the dun mule, at a touch of the spur, had dashed away up the road in the direction taken by Sammy Lane.
It was quite dark in the heavy timber of the Hollow by the time Sammy had reached the edge of the open ground on the hill side, but once on the higher level, clear of the trees, the strong glow of the western sky still lighted the way.

From here it was not far to the girl's home, and, as she climbed a spur of Dewey, Sammy saw the cabin, and heard distinctly the sweet strain's of her father's violin.