Well, now Amos, I think you musta missremembered somewhat. As I reecall, you'n'me jess throwed Maisy in there cuz she was having fits agin, face bright red and fists flying an shriekin' her dang lungs out, so's they could hear her in the next holler over and they wuz thinkin' we couldn't sing worth piss, and we wuz plumb fed up with her bein ornery and gittin' more grits than the rest of us. An she was fit to win her some ugly contests, too, iff'n we let her growd up--why, she shore woulda beat the hounds in a dog show, an' well we jes' couldn't have that happen to Old Blue number 'leventy seven. It war a damn good thing we did, too -- everybody's in the whole holler's bin a damn patch more peace-able ever since. I seem to remember we throwed a coupla pizen-snakes in after her fer good luck an' good measure, but the pigs ate 'm. Dessert, I reckon.