movin' on, fust chance she got. I s'pose she
thought mebbe Parsonsbridge butter would churn easier than Shellback; I
dono. Anyhow, she said mebbe she'd try it for a spell, and he might
expect her next week. Wal, sir,--ma'am, I ask your pardon,--he'd got his
answer, and yet he didn't seem ready to go. He kind o' shuffled his
feet, Alviry said, and stood round, and passed remarks on the weather
and sich; and she was jest goin' to say she must git back to her
ironin', when he hums and haws, and says he: 'I dono but 'twould be full
as easy if we was to git merried. I'm a single man, and a good
character. If you've no objections, we might fix it up that way,' he
says.

"Wal! Alviry was took aback some at that, and she said she'd have to
consider of it, and ask my advice and all. 'Why, land sake!' she says,
'I don't know what your name is,' she says, 'let alone marryin' of ye.'

"So he told her his name,--Job Weezer it was; I know his folks; he _has_
got a wood-lot, I guess he's all right,--and she said if he'd come back
next day she'd give him his answer. Wal, sir,--ma'am, _I_ should
say,--when I come in from milkin' she told me. I laughed till I surely
thought I'd shake to pieces; and Alviry sittin' there, as sober as a
jedge, not able to see what in time I was laughin' at.

"Wal, all about it was, he come back next day, and she said yes; and
they was merried in a week's time by Elder Tyson, and off they went. I
believe they're doin' well, and both parties satisfied; but if it ain't
the beat of anything ever I see!"

"It is quite scandalous, if that is what you mean!" said Mrs. Tree. "I
never heard of such heathen doings."

"That ain't the p'int!" said Mr. Butters, chuckling. "They ain't no
spring goslin's, neither one on 'em; old enough to know their own minds.
What gits me is, what he see in Alviry!"

CHAPTER X.

MR. BUTTERS DISCOURSES

After leaving Mrs. Tree's house, Mr. Ithuriel Butters drove slowly along
the village street toward the post-office. He jerked the reins loosely
once or twice, but for the most part let the horses take their own way;
he seemed absorbed in thought, and now and then he shook his head and
muttered to himself, his bright blue eyes twinkling, the humorous lines
of his strong old face deepening into smiling furrows. Passing the
Temple of Vesta, he looked up sharply at the windows, seemed half
inclined to check his horses; but no one was to be seen, and he let them
take their sl