sy as you can _tell_ 'em, I'd be president."

"Huh!" grunted the old man. "Marryin' a fool gal--or any other
woman--ain't nothin' to do. If I was your age I'd have her Miz Himes
before sundown."

"All right," said Buckheath, "if it's so damn' easy done--this here
marryin'--do some of it yourself. Thar's Laurelly Consadine; she's a
widow; and more kin to Pros than Johnnie is. You go up in the mountains
and wed her, and I'll stand by ye in the business."

A slow but ample grin dawned on the old man's round, foolish face. He
looked admiringly at Shade.

"By Gosh!" he said finally. "That ain't no bad notion, neither. 'Course
I can do it. They all want to wed. And thar's Laurelly--light-minded
fool--ain't got the sense she was born with--up thar without Pros nor
Johnnie--I could persuade her to take off her head and play pitch-ball
with it--Lord, yes!"

"Well, you've bragged about enough," put in Buckheath grimly. "You git
down in the collar and pull."

The old man gave him no heed. He was still grinning fatuously.

"It 'minds me of Zack Shalliday, and the way he got wedded," came the
unctuous chuckle. "Zack was a man 'bout my age, and his daughter was
a-keepin' house for him. She was a fine hand to work; the best butter
maker on the Unakas; Zack always traded his butter for a extry price.
But old as Sis Shalliday was--she must 'a' been all of twenty-seven
--along comes a man that takes a notion to her. She named it
to Zack. 'All right,' says he, 'you give me to-morrow to hunt me up one
that's as good a butter maker as you air, and I've got no objections.'
Then he took hisself down to Preacher Blaylock, knowin' in reason that
preachers was always hungry for weddin' fees, and would hustle round to
make one. He offered the preacher a dollar to give him a list of names
of single women that was good butter makers. Blaylock done so. He'd say,
'Now this 'n's right fine-looking, but I ain't never tasted her butter.
Here's one that ain't much to look at, but her butter is prime--jest
like your gal's; hit allers brings a leetle extry at the store. This
'n's fat, yet I can speak well of her workin' qualifications,' He named
'em all out to Zack, and Zack had his say for each one. 'The fat ones is
easy keepers,' he says for the last one, 'and looks don't cut much
figger in this business--it all depends on which one makes the best
butter anyhow.'

"Well, he took that thar string o' names, and he left. 'Long about
sundown, here