'
"Poor thing, I pitied her; she had one knee over the other, and, as I
said, one hand over her eyes, and there she sot, and the way the upper
foot went bobbin' up and down was like the palsy, only a little
quicker. She never said another word, nor sighed, nor groaned, nor
anything, only her head hung lower. Well, I felt streaked, Doctor, I
tell you. I felt like a man who had stabbed another, and knew he ought
to be hanged for it; and I looked at her as such a critter would, if
he had to look on, and see his enemy bleed to death. I knew I had done
wrong--I had acted spider-like to her--got her into the web--tied her
hand and foot, and tantalized her. I am given to brag, I know, Doctor,
when I am in the saddle, and up in the stirrups, and leavin' all
others behind; but when a beast is choaked and down in the dirt, no
man ever heard me brag I had rode the critter to death.
"No, I did wrong, she was a woman, and I was a man, and if she did act
a part, why, I ought to have known the game she had to play, and made
allowances for it. I dropt the trump card under the table that time,
and though I got the odd trick, she had the honours. It warn't manly
in me, that's a fact; but confound her, why the plague did she call me
'Mr,' and act formal, and give me the bag to hold, when she knew me of
old, and minded the cherry-tree, and all that? Still she was a woman,
and a defenceless one too, and I did'nt do the pretty.
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