I s'pose thar's a word
for 'aunt' in Mexican, ain't there? 'Pears like thar couldn't be no
langwedge 'thout sech a word! He'll know what it means! I'd go off
with him a heap easier ef he'd call me jest plain Aunt Ri, ez I'm
used ter, or Mis Hyer, either un on 'em; but Aunt Ri's the
nateralest."
Jos had some anxiety about his mother's memory of the way to San
Jacinto. She laughed.
"Don't yeow be a mite oneasy," she said. "I bet yeow I'd go clean
back ter the States ther way we cum. I allow I've got every mile on
't 'n my hed plain's a turnpike. Yeow nor yer dad, neiry one on yer,
couldn't begin to do 't. But what we air gwine ter do, fur gettin' up
the mounting, thet's another thing. Thet's more 'n I dew know. But
thar'll be a way pervided, Jos, sure's yeow're bawn. The Lawd ain't
gwine to get hisself hindered er holpin' Ramony this time; I ain't a
mite afeerd."
Felipe could not have found a better ally. The comparative silence
enforced between them by reason of lack of a common vehicle for
their thoughts was on the whole less of a disadvantage than would
have at first appeared.
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