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sad companions' arms he lay,
And in short pantings sobb'd his soul away;
(Like some vile worm extended on the ground;)
While life's red torrent gush'd from out the wound.
Him on his car the Paphlagonian train
In slow procession bore from off the plain.
The pensive father, father now no more!
Attends the mournful pomp along the shore;
And unavailing tears profusely shed;
And, unrevenged, deplored his offspring dead.
Paris from far the moving sight beheld,
With pity soften
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sign it was going to rain. He said it was
a sign when young chickens flew that way, and so he reckoned it was the
same way when young birds done it. I was going to catch some of them,
but Jim wouldn't let me. He said it was death. He said his father laid
mighty sick once, and some of them catched a bird, and his old granny
said his father would die, and he did.
And Jim said you mustn't count the things you are going to cook for
dinner, because that would bring bad luck. The same if you shook the
table-cloth after sundown. And he said if a man owned a beehive
and that man died, the bees must be told about it before sun-up next
morning, or else the bees would all weaken down and quit work and die.
Jim said bees wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that, because
I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me.
I had heard about some of these things before, but not all of them. Jim
knowed all kinds of signs. He said he knowed most everything. I said
it looked to me like all the signs was about bad luck, and so I asked
him if there warn't any good-luck signs. He says:
“Mighty few--an' _dey_ ain't no use to a body. What you want to know
when good luck's a-comin' for? Want to keep it off?” And he said: “Ef
you's got hairy arms en a hairy breas', it's a sign dat you's agwyne
to be rich. Well, dey's some use in a sign like dat, 'kase it's so fur
ahead. You see, maybe you's got to be po' a long time fust, en so you
might git discourage' en kill yo'sef 'f you didn' know by de sign dat
you gwyne to be rich bymeby.”
“Have you got hairy arms and a hairy breast, Jim?”
“What's de use to ax dat question? Don't you see I has?”
“Well, are you rich?”
“No, but I ben rich wunst, and gwyne to be rich agin. Wunst I had
foteen dollars, but I tuck to specalat'n', en got busted out.”
“What did you speculate in, Jim?”
“Well, fust I tackled stock.”
“What kind of stock?”
“Why, live stock--cattle, you know. I put ten dollars in a cow. But
I