rom under her long eyelashes a glance so
roguish, so perfectly infatuating, that my heart behaved like a
thermometer that is plunged first into a tea-kettle and then into
snow; it went up into my throat, and then down into my boots. I still
grasped the server and stood there like a revolving lantern--one
minute white, another red. Finally my heart settled into my boots. It
was evident that fate was against me. I was _doomed_ to go on leading
a blundering existence. My admiration for this lovely girl was already
a thousand times stronger than any feeling I had ever had for Belle
Marigold. Yet how ridiculous I must appear to her. How politely she
was laughing at me.

The sense of this, and the certainty that I was born to blunder, came
home to me with crushing weight. I turned slowly to Aunt Jerusha, who
was bringing fresh milk, and said, with a simplicity to which pathos
must have given dignity:

"Aunt, will you show them the way to Widow Cooper's? I am going to the
barn to hang myself," and I walked out.

"Is he in earnest?" I heard Blue-Eyes inquire.

"Wall, now, I shouldn't be surprised," avowed Aunt Jerusha. "He's been
powerful low-spirited lately. You see, ladies, he was born that
bashful that life is a burden to him."

I walked on in the direction of the barn; I would not pause to listen
or to cast a backward glance. Doubtless, my relative told them of my
previous futile attempt to poison myself--perhaps became so interested
in relating anecdotes of her nephew's peculiar temperament, that she
forgot the present danger which threatened him. At least, it was some
time before she troubled herself to follow me to ascertain if my
threat meant anything serious.

When she finally arrived at the large double door, standing wide open
for the entrance of the loaded wagons, she gave a sudden shriek.

I was standing on the beam which supported the light flooring of the
hay-loft; beneath was the threshing-floor; above me the great rafters
of the barn, and around one of these I had fastened a rope, the other
terminus of which was knotted about my neck.

I stood ready for the fatal leap.

As she screamed, I slightly raised my hand:

"Silence, Aunt Jerusha, and receive my parting instructions. Tell
Blue-Eyes that I love her madly, but not to blame herself for my
untimely end. The ruin of her dress was only the last drop in the
cup--the last straw on the camel's back. Farewell!" and as she threw
up her arms and shrieke