I married Em'ly. I tell you, Miner Hobbs, that what's workin' in me
now is that I ain't able to git old and give up 'thout makin' a fight.
It ain't gray hair and wrinkles that make folks hate gettin' old, it's
dryin' up, losin' their spark, so to speak. Now there's nothin' that
makes a man feel such an all fired lot younger as fallin' in love over
agen." He laughed. "'Course I ain't recommendin' dynamite, Miner, which
is fallin' in love with a new woman when you got an old one. That's my
way, 'cause fate's done sent it so fer me, and we got to make our lives
out of what we git. But why can't a man just start in ever so often
fallin' in love agen and recourtin' his wife till he gits himself and
her all woke up as in the old days? I ain't sayin' it's as easy with a
stale girl as with a fresh one, but, Lord!"--and here the shadows chased
each other across the luminous elderly face--"I could 'a' kep' on
courtin' Em'ly till kingdom come and thanked God fer the chance, ef He
had but seen fit to spare her to me so long."

And then Uncle Ambrose slipped off the counter and went away and drove
Sam out to the Widow Tarwater's Red Farm, which was now twice the size
it had been in her youth, since Peachy had married the young man owning
the place adjoining hers.

Yet somehow Uncle Ambrose's anticipated visit proved a disappointment.

In the first place, both of his rivals were there before him, and there
was something in their attitude and in the widow's manner that made him
hot with the desire to get the representatives of the law and the
gospel out behind a fence and have everybody roll up their sleeves.
However, since no open accusations were made and a woman was present,
what was there for him to do but to make a short stay and then return
slowly home?--home, to live through what was perhaps the most
extraordinary experience of Ambrose Thompson's entire lifetime. For
nearly sixty years he had lived in the village of Pennyroyal, been a
friend to all its people, his life had been there for them to see and
interpret, and yet with the first breathings of calumny the record of
his whole career was smirched. Still he made no protest, for what does
denial count if a man's character cannot save him? His visits to the
widow were continued, however, and always he found her in a flutter
between affection and fear. Nevertheless, Uncle Ambrose was merely
biding his time, but in the meanwhile Miner's silence and devotion were
more healing