you hear?  Your mother couldn't read, and she couldn't write, nuther, before she died.  None of the family couldn't before _they_ died.  I can't; and here you're a-swelling yourself up like this.  I ain't the man to stand it--you hear? Say, lemme hear you read.” I took up a book and begun something about General Washington and the wars. When I'd read about a half a minute, he fetched the book a whack with his hand and knocked it across the house.  He says: “It's so.  You can do it.  I had my doubts when you told me.  Now looky here; you stop that putting on frills.  I won't have it.  I'll lay for you, my smarty; and if I catch you about that school I'll tan you good. First you know you'll get religion, too.  I never see such a son.” He took up a little blue and yaller picture of some cows and a boy, and says: “What's this?” “It's something they give me for learning my lessons good.” He tore it up, and says: “I'll give you something better--I'll give you a cowhide.” He set there a-mumbling and a-growling a minute, and then he says: “_Ain't_ you a sweet-scented dandy, though?  A bed; and bedclothes; and a look'n'-glass; and a piece of carpet on the floor--and your own father got to sleep with the hogs in the tanyard.  I never see such a son.  I bet I'll take some o' these frills out o' you before I'm done with you. Why, there ain't no end to your airs--they say you're rich.  Hey?--how's that?” “They lie--that's how.” “Looky here--mind how you talk to me; I'm a-standing about all I can stand now--so don't gimme no sass.  I've been in town two days, and I hain't heard nothing but about you bein' rich.  I heard about it away down the river, too.  That's why I come.  You git me that money to-morrow--I want it.” “I hain't got no money.” “It's a lie.  Judge Thatcher's got it.  You git it.  I want it.” “I hain't got no money, I tell you.  You ask Judge Thatcher; he'll tell you the same.” “All right.  I'll ask him; and I'll make him pungle, too, or I'll know t