Sergeant York Page #5

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next Saturday night, Miss Gracie?

- I ain't been asked.

- Well...

You've been asked now.

- I can't say, Zeb. I have to think it over.

- Well, I don't...

Joshua, 14, verse 9...

You'd be a-coming if you wanted to,

Miss Gracie.

Maybe I could and maybe I couldn't.

Why, it's Alvin York.

- Howdy, Miss Gracie.

- Howdy, Alvin.

- You know Zeb Andrews, ain't you?

- Howdy.

Knitting, Zeb?

He was just a-helping me.

I wasn't expecting you

to be a-calling so soon.

Well, I said I'd be seeing you.

Last time I seen Alvin

he was chasing a fox.

He stopped here for a spell to

kind of catch his breath.

- Did you kill that fox, Alvin?

- I sure did.

- We run over there...

- Was that a gray fox or a red?

Red. Just to the side of that...

Why, a red fox skin ain't worth nothing

this time of the year.

That little hollow...

This one was.

"Asa begat Joshiat

and Joshiat begat Joshua."

It's just Uncle Lige talking to himself.

Zeb here was telling me there's gonna be

a dance over to Thomson's Mill.

Yeah, I hear that...

Ed Morgan's gonna do the fiddling.

I was figuring that...

Just about the best fiddler

in these here parts, he is.

- He ain't.

- lf he ain't, who'd be?

- Tod Haskins.

- He can't hold a candle to Ed.

- You're a-thinking.

- I'm a-knowing.

- Oh, you are, are you?

- Now, now, now. Hush up, you two.

There ain't no call

for fussing over a fiddler.

- We weren't a-fussing. I was telling him...

- Well, I'm a-telling you...

The way I figure, Ed's better at the jigging

and Tod can sure fiddle a square.

"It biteth like a serpent,

and stingeth like an adder."

Uncle Lige there was a-telling me

that corn's right good this harvest.

How's the crops up your way, Alvin?

We figure to get about

20 bushel to the acre.

We're gonna get about 60.

Well, there's a heap of difference

twixt farming the bottomland and the top.

- Well, there sure is.

- I reckon...

You know, I don't see how you get

five bushels off of that there land of yours.

Now look here, Zeb Andrews...

Miss... Miss Gracie,

I'd sure be much obliged

if I could have a cup of water.

I got some nipping cider.

- Well, that'd go mighty good.

- I'll be getting it.

"And the lion shall lie down

with the lamb."

Here's your cider. It's coming from the...

Where's Zeb?

- What's he...

- I reckon he lit out.

Well, isn't he be coming back?

No, ma'am, he ain't.

- That strikes me mighty queer.

- Yessum.

"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do,

"do it with thy might."

Alvin, you...

You was fighting.

- It weren't much.

- Alvin York...

You ain't a-fitting to come a-visiting a girl.

He ain't got no business

around here anyhow.

As much business as you have, Alvin York.

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