urself, Libby,
asthore?' he rejoined, casting a melting tenderness into voice and
manner; 'without a relation that ever was?'

'Not a bit, I guess,' was the curt reply.

'Och,' groaned the lover, 'av there ever was in the whole 'varsal world
a woman so hard to manage! She hasn't no more feelin's than one of them
chaneys, or she wouldn't be lookin' at me these four years a-pinin' away
visibly before her eyes. My new shute o' clothes had to be took in
twice, I'm got so thin; but little you cares.' Then, after a pause,
'Libby, mavourneen, you'd be a grand hand at managin' a little store;
now the one at the "Corner" 'll be shut. 'Spose we tried it togedder,
eh, mabouchal?'

Without hesitation, without change of countenance, without displacing
one of her plates, the Yankee damsel answered, 'I guess 'twould be a
spry thing, rayther; we'd keep house considerable well. And now that's
settled, you can't be comin' arter me a tormentin' me no more; and the
sooner we sot up the fixin's the better, I reckon.'

Thus calmly and sensibly did the massive maiden Liberia prepare to glide
from single into wedded life; and though she has never been able quite
to restrain the humorous freaks of her husband, she has succeeded in
transforming the pauper labourer Andy Callaghan into an independent
shopkeeper and farmer.

Not long after the happy accomplishment of this last alliance the
post-office was transferred from the decaying knot of cabins at the
'Corner' to the rising settlement of Cedar Creek. Andy's new store had a
letter-box fixed in its window, and his wife added to her multifarious
occupations that of postmistress.

'Anything for me this evening, Mrs. Callaghan?' asked the silver-headed
squire, in his stately way, coming up to the counter.

'I guess thar's the newspaper,' answered Liberia, pushing it across,
while the other hand held a yard measure upon some calico, whence she
was serving a customer. A new face Mr. Wynn saw in a moment: probably
one of the fresh emigrants who sometimes halted at the Creek proceeding
up country.

Mrs. Callaghan looked doubtfully at the piece of English silver produced
by the woman, and turned it round between her finger and thumb. 'I say,
squire, stop a minute: what sort o' money's this?'

'A crown-piece sterling; you'll give six shillings and a penny currency
for it,' answered Mr. Wynn.

'Now I guess that's what I don't understand,' said Liberia. 'Why ain't
five shillin's the same every