'Thet fish has jerked the fear o' God out o' ye - thet's the way it looks t' me,' said Carlyle Barber.

'Yer up 'n the air, Mose,' said another. 'Need a sinker on ye.' They bullied him - they talked him down, demurring mildly, but firmly.

'Tell ye what I'll do,' said Mose sheepishly, 'I'll b'lieve you fellers if you'll b'lieve me.'

'What, swop even? Not much!' said one, with emphasis.' 'Twouldn't be fair. Ye've ast us t' b'lieve a genuwine out 'n out impossibility.'

Mose lifted his hat and scratched his head thoughtfully. There was a look of embarrassment in his face.

'Might a ben dreamin',' said he slowly. 'I swear it's gittin' so here 'n this town a feller can't hardly b'lieve himself.'

'Fur '5 my experience goes,' said Ransom Walker, 'he'd be a fool 'f he did.'

''Minds me o' the time I went fishin' with Ab Thomas,' said Uncle Eb. 'He ketched an ol' socker the fast thing. I went off by myself 'n got a good sized fish, but 'twant s' big 's hisn. So I tuk 'n opened his mouth n poured in a lot o' fine shot. When I come back Ab he looked at my fish 'n begun t' brag. When we weighed 'em mine was a leetle heavier.