172 THE CAROLINA MOUNTAINS 
lands, as indeed slight variations occur even in 
valleys separated by rough mountains, or among 
people living on opposite sides of the same moun- 
tain, so little communication has there been between 
those thus separated. 
Of course, like all who live in the backwoods, the 
mountaineer is untrammeled by the rules of the 
grammarian, although he adheres strictly to a few 
rules of his own, and to-day his is the most purely 
"American" of any language in the United States, it 
having grown from its English source, untouched by 
contact with a motley world. 
"Farwel, for I ne may no longer dwelle," says 
Chaucer in the "Knight's Tale." "He don't never 
say farwell if he can holpen it," says the North 
Carolina mountaineer, using Chaucer's double nega- 
tive and Chaucer's "farwell" and "holpen" in the 
same breath. 
That "yonder" is in common use you know when 
you hear a baby lisp out, "yonda comes a cow," 
another pointing out the interesting fact that "yon- 
da's a hen with agangof little chickens," and "yon" 
has not been relegated to the realm of poetry where 
the child tells you that his cousin lives "yon side the 
mountain." 
In some places the people still go to the "milking 
gap" to milk the cows. "Least" as a diminutive, 
and "nary" are in such common use that one soon 
ceases to notice them. "I've made a kiverlid for 
each of my daughters but the least one, and I ain't 
made her nar'," says a woman you know. "I've 
