“Well, ef they did quarrel--now mind ye, I ain’t a-sayin’ wuther they did or wuther they didn’t--but ef they _did_ quarrel, it was a quarrel wuth lis’nin’ to, I can tell ye that. I knowed yer pa; knowed ’im like a book; worked right alongside of ’im many a day. Best-natered, best-hearted, best-mannered young feller I ever see in all _my_ life. But”--impressively--“he wouldn’t never let no one set on ’im. W’en he sot out to do a thing he done it wuther or no. An’ w’en he got ’is dander up--well, my gracious! You seen he was a chip o’ the ol’ block then, sure. An’ yer gran’pap! Well, you know yer gran’pap perty nigh as well as I do, an’ you know ’at w’at he ain’t capable uv in the way o’ well-digested contrariness ain’t wuth mentionin’. ’Member the dressin’ down he give ’Squire Biddlecomb las’ spring over that breechy cow o’ his’n?” Gabriel stopped for a moment to chuckle in delighted remembrance over the incident to which he had referred. Then he continued:-- “So, ez I say, ef they did quarrel, it must ’a’ be’n a rip-staver. An’, ez ol’ Isra’l Pidgin use to say, ‘It takes longer fer a win’fall to grow up with new timber ’an it does to heal up a family quarrel.’” Gabriel never tired of quoting Israel Pidgin; but, when asked about this oracle, the facts he was able to give were very meagre. “An ol’ feller I use to know up in York state” was usually all the information that could be obtained. There were those, however, who did not hesitate to declare that the supposed sage was wholly a creature of Gabriel’s imagination. “Heard anything about the new railroad?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly, and digging violently into the bottom and sides of a hill from which he had already thrown out all the potatoes. “Say they’re a-comin’ right down acrost the farm an’ out through the gap to the river.” Dannie knew that it was useless to question Gabriel further about his father, and he turned away disappointed and vexed. “No,” he replied impatiently, “I don’t know anything about the new railroad, an’ I don’t know as I care.” “Well,” continued Gabriel, leaning contemplatively on the handle of his hoe, “ef Abner Pickett gits what it’s wuth to a railroad to run through that gap, he can afford to wear a starched shirt onct in a w’ile on a Sunday.” “Gran’pap wears the kind o’ shirts that suits him,” replied Dannie, indignantly, “an’ it’s nobody’s business but his own.” “Of course! Of course!” chuckled Gabriel. “As ol’ Isra’l Pidgin use to say, ‘Blood’s thicker’n water; an’ ye can’t thin it by stirrin’ of it up.’”