had been genuine in his
interest in the stuffed birds.

"Becky's too young for things like that," he began hopefully.

But Bob Flippin shook his head. "Girls are queer, Judge, and you never
can tell what they're goin' to do next. Now, there's my Mary--running
off and getting married, and coming home and not talking much about it.
She--didn't even bring her marriage certificate. Said that he had kept
it. But she's never lied to me, and I know when she says she's
married, she's--married--but it's queer. He ain't written now for
weeks, but she ain't worried. She says she knows the reason, but she
can't tell me. And when I try to ask questions, she just looks me
straight in the eye and says, 'I never lied to you, Father, did I? And
it's all right.'"

"He has a good name," said the Judge. "Branch--it's one of our
names--my wife's family."

"But I reckon there ain't never been any Truelove Branches in your
family tree. I laugh at Mary when she calls him that. '"Truelove"
ain't any name for a man, Mary,' I tell her. But she says there
couldn't be a better one. And she insisted on naming the child
'Fidelity.' But if anybody had told me that my little Mary--would take
things into her own hands like that--why, Judge, before she went away
to teach school, she leaned on me and her mother--and now she's as
stiff as a poker when we try to ask about her affairs----"

"Does he support her?" the Judge asked.

"Sends her plenty of money. She always seems to have enough, even when
he doesn't write. He'll be coming one of these days--and then we'll
get the thing straight, but in the meantime there ain't any use in
asking Mary."

He brought out the bag of corn-cakes and fed the dogs. They were a
well-bred crew and took their share in turn, sitting in a row and going
through the ceremony with an air of enjoying not only the food but the
attention they attracted front the two men.

"Of course," said Mr. Flippin as he gathered, up the lunch things, "I'm
saying to you what I wouldn't say to another soul. Mary's my girl, and
she's all right. But I naturally have the feelings of a father."

The Judge stretched himself on the grass, and pulled his hat over his
eyes. "Girls are queer, and if that Dalton thinks he can court my
Becky----" He stopped, and spoke again from under his hat, "Oh, what's
the use of worrying, Bob, on a day like this?"

The Judge always napped after lunch, and Bob Flippin, stretched beside
h