s
silent and thoughtful, refilling his pipe as soon as the tobacco was
burned out; but sometimes he would talk, though what he said I felt was
aimless.

"I've some heavier tobacco than that," I said.

"This will do, though it is pretty light. Raised on an old hill."

He sat down and continued to pull at his pipe, though the fire was out.
He leaned with his elbow on the table; he moved as if his position were
uncomfortable; he got up, went to the window, looked out, came back,
resumed his seat and after looking at the floor for a few moments said
that he thought that it must be going to rain.

"Perhaps so," I replied, "but that's not what you wanted to say."

He gave me a sharp glance, looked down and then asked: "How do you
know?"

"I know because I can see and because I'm not a fool."

"Anybody ever call you a fool?" he asked, with a sad laugh. He leaned
far back and looked up at the clapboards.

"That has nothing to do with it, Alf. Pardon me. Mr. Jucklin, I should
have said. The truth is, it seems that I have known you a long time."

"And when you feel that way about a man," he quickly spoke up, "you make
no mistake in accepting him as a friend. Call me Alf. What's your first
name?" I told him, and he added: "And I'll call you Bill. No; the truth
is I didn't care to say that I thought it was going to rain; I don't
give a snap for rain, except the rain that is pouring on my heart. You
remember that girl that came out upon the gallery. I know you do, for no
man could forget her. You know that Guinea asked me if Millie was at
home. Well, that was Millie Lundsford, the old General's daughter. We
have lived close together all our lives, but I have never known her very
well, and even now I wouldn't go there on a dead-set visit. She and
Guinea went off to school together and are good friends. Guinea tries to
plague me about her at times, not knowing that I really love her. I
couldn't go off to school, didn't care any too much for education, but
since that girl came home and I got better acquainted with her I have
felt that I would give half my life to know books, so that I could talk
to her; and since then I have been studying, with Guinea to help me.
And you don't know how glad I was when I heard that you had come here to
teach school, for I want to study under you. But secretly," he added. "I
can't go to the school-house; I don't want her to know that I am so
ignorant."

I reached over and took hold of his han