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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation"

But look yar! don't ye go sayin' anything of this
to Polly,--you know what women are!"
A faint color came into Larry's face; an animation quite different to
the lazy deliberation of his previous monologue shone in his eyes, as
he said, with a certain rough respect he had not shown before to his
companion, "That's why I'm tellin' ye, so that ef SHE happened to see
anything and got skeert, ye'd know how to reason her out of it."
"'Sh!" said the colonel, with a warning gesture.
A young girl had just appeared in the doorway, and now stood leaning
against the central pillar that supported it, with one hand above her
head, in a lazy attitude strongly suggestive of the colonel's Southern
indolence, yet with a grace entirely her own. Indeed, it overcame the
negligence of her creased and faded yellow cotton frock and unbuttoned
collar, and suggested--at least to the eyes of ONE man--the curving and
clinging of the jasmine vine against the outer column of the veranda.
Larry Hawkins rose awkwardly to his feet.


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