Wa'al, we'd got along so nice fer a while that I felt more 'n usual like pleasin' her, an' I allowed to myself that if she wanted a new bunnit, money shouldn't stand in the way, an' I set out to give her a supprise." They had reached the level at the top of the long hill and the horses had broken into a trot, when Mr.Harum's narrative was interrupted and his equanimity upset by the onslaught of an excessively shrill, active, and conscientious dog of the "yellow" variety, which barked and sprang about in front of the mares with such frantic assiduity as at last to communicate enough of its excitement to them to cause them to bolt forward on a run, passing the yellow nuisance, which, with the facility of long practice, dodged the cut which David made at it in passing.

It was with some little trouble that the horses were brought back to a sober pace.
"Dum that dum'd dog!" exclaimed David with fervor, looking back to where the object of his execrations was still discharging convulsive yelps at the retreating vehicle, "I'd give a five-dollar note to git one good lick at him.

I'd make him holler 'pen-an'-ink' _once_! Why anybody's willin' to have such a dum'd, wuthless, pestiferous varmint as that 'round 's more 'n I c'n understand.

I'll bet that the days they churn, that critter, unless they ketch him an' tie him up the night before, 'll be under the barn all day, an' he's jest blowed off steam enough to run a dog churn a hull forenoon." Whether or not the episode of the dog had diverted Mr.Harum's mind from his previous topic, he did not resume it until John ventured to remind him of it, with "You were saying something about the surprise for your wife." "That's so," said David.

"Yes, wa'al, when I went home that night I stopped into a mil'nery store, an' after I'd stood 'round a minute, a girl come up an' ast me if she c'd show me anythin'.
"'I want to buy a bunnit,' I says, an' she kind o' laughed.