in some outlandish language to that other
dark-eyed gal."

"Speakin' 'bout good-lookers," put in the deacon, "what's the matter
with the one the big feller pushed for'ard as his wife? I don't guess
Frank needed no introducin' to them, for it seems to me that he's met
'em both before."

"But, my jinks," gasped Eben, "look at the sparklers in the ears of that
one in brown! S'pose them is real dimints? If they me, I bet they cost
much as twenty-five dollars apiece!"

"Twenty-five?" said the deacon, with an intonation of contempt. "You
ain't no judge of dimints, Eben! I bet they cost thirty!"

"Most of them seem to know Frank's nigger, Toots," said Eli. "Look at
him show them ivories and nod and bow. By jinks! he'll snap his head
off if he keeps that up. See that mouth of his'n stretch! The corners
are going to pass each other at the back of his neck in a minute. If he
keeps on, he'll lose the whole top of his head. It'll jest naturally
crack right off."

"Well, well, boys, this makes me feel mighty good, myself," said the
deacon. "Never used to be no sech things as this going on here in our
town. I tell you if I wasn't a temperance man, I feel so good I'd jest
go down to Applesnack's store and open up two or three bottles of ginger
ale."

"A little hard cider for me," laughed Uncle Eb. "Rufus has it in his
storeroom. I know where we kin git at the keg, boys, and I think we
better celebrate ourselves."

"That's a good idee, Eben," said Eli. "We'll all go over to the grocery
and wash the dust out of our throats with Applesnack's cider."

"Now, boys," protested the deacon, "I don't think I'd better go. If it
should come out, people would talk. I think I'll keep away."

"No, ye don't! No, ye don't!" declared Given, as he grasped one of the
deacon's arms. "Git hold of his other wing, Eben. We'll lead him up to
the keg and pour it into him, if we have to. There won't nobody see us,
deacon. We'll be in the back room, and we'll have Rufus shet the door. I
guess you kin trust us, can't ye? I guess you ain't afraid we'll go
round tellin' folks 'bout it, are ye? You know we're your friends,
don't ye?"

"Course I know it," retorted the deacon. "But it's some agin' my
principles, boys. It ain't jest right."

"Oh, fudge!" laughed Uncle Eb. "On a grand occasion like this you'd
better set them air principles aside a little while. Frank is gittin'
them into the carriages now. We'll see them off, and then we'll stroll
over t