wgs scratch their backs under the floors--but a
_real_ house. Mebby by thet day an' time thar'll be a highway men kin
travel without torment." As he paused, at a loss for power of
architectural enlargement, the girl sighed.

"Then I reckon ye don't hardly 'low ter raise thet house in my
lifetime, Turner," she teased. "I'll most likely be too old ter visit
ye thar afore a highway gits built."

But he shook his head. "I aims ter speed up ther comin' of sich
things," he announced with the splendid effrontery of youth. "Hit
hain't been so long since ther fust wagon crossed Cedar Mountain. We're
liable to see balloons comin' afore we die."

"Aunt Jane Colby was tellin' me about that first wagon to-day at
dinner," Blossom assented. "She says one old man asked folks whether it
was true or whether he was fitified. He said: 'What manner of
_contrivance_ air thet? Hit's got four wheels an' one pair's bigger
then t'other pair, an' two of 'em goes round faster then t'other two
an' the Lord A'mighty only knows how hit manages ter keep up with
hitself.'"

They both laughed with young condescension for the old-fashioned and
then Turner went on, haltingly by reason of callow diffidence.

"Ef thet house couldn't be reared in time fer _you_ ter come to hit,
Blossom--hit wouldn't be no manner of use ter me a-tall."

"Does ye aim ter make me a present of a house?" she challenged and
again the provocative allurement of her swept him so that the smooth
sinews of his arms tightened as if with physical effort.

"I means thet someday--when I've done something worth doin' an' when
ye're a leetle bit older yoreself, Blossom, you're agoin' ter marry me,
an' we're goin' ter dwell thar--together."

The girl's cheeks reddened furiously and for a moment she made no
response, then she declared with a stout self-assertion designed to
mask her confusion, "I reckon I'll hev somethin' ter say about thet."

"Ye'll have _everything_ ter say about hit, Blossom, but"--there was a
purposeful ring in his voice that hinted at ultimate victory--"but some
day I aims ter persuade ye ter say, 'yes.'"

Her cheeks were brightly pink and she pretended to be engrossed in the
demeanor of a squirrel that chattered quarrelsomely at them from a
nearby poplar. Turner Stacy dropped his voice until it was very soft.

"I kin bide my time an' wait twell ye're ready, Blossom, but if ye
don't _never_ say hit, I don't hardly see how I kin go on livin'."

"I'm right gla