Fer the love o' hivin', Flora,' he'd holler, 'cantcha fright it away from me before I go out o' me head ?'" "Poor Tom!" said Della with deep compassion.

"An' the poor man out of his head all the time, an' not knowin' it! 'Twas awful fer Flora to sit there an' hear such things in the night like that!" "You may believe yerself whin ye say it!" Mrs.Cullen agreed.

"Right the very night the poor soul died, he was hollerin' how the big black snake and the little black man wit' the gassly white forehead a-pokin' it wit' a broomstick had come fer um.

'Fright 'em away, Flora!' he was croakin', in a v'ice that hoarse an' husky 'twas hard to make out what he says.
'Fright 'em away, Flora!' he says.

''Tis the big, black, ugly-faced snake, as black as a black stockin' an' thicker round than me leg at the thigh before I was wasted away!' he says, poor man.