In the Limberlost in low shoes! He caught an armful of moss from his carpet and buried it in the ooze in front of her for a footing.
"Come out here so I can see where you are stepping.

Quick, for the life of you!" he ordered.
She smiled on him indulgently.
"Why ?" she inquired.
"Did anybody let you come here and not be telling you of the snakes ?" urged Freckles.
"We met Mr.McLean on the corduroy, and he did say something about snakes, I believe.

The Bird Woman put on leather leggings, and a nice, parboiled time she must be having! Worst dose I ever endured, and I'd nothing to do but swelter." "Will you be coming out of there ?" groaned Freckles.
She laughed as if it were a fine joke.
"Maybe if I'd be telling you I killed a rattler curled upon that same place you're standing, as long as me body and the thickness of me arm, you'd be moving where I can see your footing," he urged insistently.
"What a perfectly delightful little brogue you speak," she said.

"My father is Irish, and half should be enough to entitle me to that much.
'Maybe--if I'd--be telling you,'" she imitated, rounding and accenting each word carefully.
Freckles was beginning to feel a wildness in his head.

He had derided Wessner at that same hour yesterday.