the old man, and the rather uneasy attitude of Miss Babe,
that the discussion of Peevy's appetite had its origin in the lover-like
attentions which he had been paying to the girl. Certainly Peevy was
excusable, and if his attentions had been favorably received, he was to
be congratulated, Chichester thought; for in all that region it would
have been difficult to find a lovelier specimen of budding womanhood
than the young girl who had striven so unsuccessfully to hide her
embarrassment as her grandfather proceeded, with the merciless
recklessness of age, to criticize Peevy's strength and weakness as a
trencherman.

As Chichester had occasion to discover afterward, Peevy had his
peculiarities; but he did not seem to be greatly different from other
young men to be found in that region. One of his peculiarities was that
he never argued about anything. He had opinions on a great many
subjects, but his reasons for holding his opinions he kept to himself.
The arguments of those who held contrary views he would listen to with
great patience, even with interest; but his only reply would be a slow,
irritating smile and a shake of the head. Peevy was homely, but there
was nothing repulsive about his homeliness. He was tall and somewhat
angular; he was sallow; he had high cheek-bones, and small eyes that
seemed to be as alert and as watchful as those of a ferret; and he was
slow and deliberate in all his movements, taking time to digest and
consider his thoughts before replying to the simplest question, and even
then his reply was apt to be evasive. But he was good-humored and
obliging, and, consequently, was well thought of by his neighbors and
acquaintances.

There was one subject in regard to which he made no concealment, and
that was his admiration for Miss Babe Hightower. So far as Peevy was
concerned, she was the one woman in the world. His love for her was a
passion at once patient, hopeful, and innocent. He displayed his
devotion less in words than in his attitude; and so successful had he
been that it was generally understood that by camp-meeting time Miss
Babe Hightower would be Mrs. Tuck Peevy. That is to say, it was
understood by all except Grandsir Hightower, who was apt to chuckle
sarcastically when the subject was broached.

"They hain't arry livin' man," he would say, "what's ever seed anybody
wi' them kind er eyes settled down an' married. No, sirs! Hit's the
vittles Tuck Peevy's atter. Why, bless your soul an'