Happy Valley and St. Hilda are the centre of the comedy and tragedy in which Allaphair, Christopher, Parson Small, the Angel, the Pope, the Marquise of Queensberry, and the Goddess play their parts, sometimes amusing, sometimes pathetic. Always they stand out as real people of the mountains--notable additions to the gallery of Kentucky mountaineers with which Mr. Fox has for so many years enriched our literature.
l. His feet never moved, but like a blacksnake's head his own darted back; Jay's great hand fanned the air, and as his own force whirled him half around, Allaphair had to hold back a screech of laughter, for Ira had slapped him. Jay looked puzzled, but with fists clinched, he rushed fiercely. Right and left he swung, but the teacher was never there. Presently there was another stinging smack on his cheek and another, as Ira danced about him like the shadow of a magic lantern.
"He's a-tirin' him down," thought Allaphair, but she was wrong; Ira was trying to make him mad, and that did not take much time or trouble. Jay rushed him.
"No wrasslin'," called Ira quietly, at the same time stopping the rush with a left-hand swing on Jay's chin that made the head wabble.
"I reckon he must be left-handed," thought the wondering Allaphair. There are persons who literally do grind their teeth with rage and it is audible. The girl heard Jay's now.
"He's goin' to kill him," she thought,