"Wher've you been?" Mrs. Stucky asked, when Bud's mirth had subsided.

"Away over yander at the depot," said Bud, indicating Little Azalia.
"An' I fotch you some May-pops too. I did that! I seed 'em while I wuz
a-gwine 'long, an' I sez ter myself, sezee, 'You jess wait thar tell I
come 'long back, an' I'll take an' take you ter maw,' sezee."

Although this fruit of the passion-flowers was growing in profusion
right at the door, Mrs. Stucky gave this grown man, her son, to
understand that May-pops such as he brought were very desirable indeed.

"I wonder you didn't fergit 'em," she said.

"Who? me!" exclaimed Bud. "I jess like fer ter see anybody ketch me
fergittin' 'em. Now I jess would. I never eat a one, nuther--not a one."

Mrs. Stucky made no response to this, and none seemed to be necessary.
Bud sat and pulled his thin beard, and gazed in the fire. Presently he
laughed and said:

"I jess bet a hoss you couldn't guess who I seed; now I jess bet that."

Mrs. Stucky rubbed the side of her face thoughtfully, and seemed to be
making a tremendous effort to imagine whom Bud had seen.

"'Twer'n't no man, en 'twer'n't no Azalia folks. 'Twuz a gal."

"A gal!" exclaimed Mrs. Stucky.

"Yes'n, a gal, an' _ef_ she wa'n't a zooner you may jess take an' knock
my chunk out."

Mrs. Stucky looked at her son curiously. Her cold gray eyes glittered in
the firelight as she held them steadily on his face. Bud, conscious of
this inspection, moved about in his chair uneasily, shifting his feet
from one side to the other.

"'Twer'n't no Sal Badger," he said, after a while, laughing sheepishly;
"'twer'n't no Maria Matthews, 'twer'n't no Lou Hornsby, an' 'twer'n't no
Martha Jane Williams, nuther. She wuz a bran'-new gal, an' she went ter
the tavern, _she_ did."

"I've done saw 'er," said Mrs. Stucky placidly.

"You done saw 'er, maw!" exclaimed Bud. "Well, the great Jemimy! What's
her name, maw?"

"They didn't call no names," said Mrs. Stucky. "They jess sot thar, an'
gormandized on waffles an' batter-cakes, an' didn't call no names. Hit
made me dribble at the mouf, the way they went on."

"Wuz she purty, maw?"

"I sot an' looked at um," Mrs. Stucky went on, "an' I 'lowed maybe the
war moughter come betwixt the old un an' her good looks. The t'other one
looks mighty slick, but, Lordy! She hain't nigh ez slick ez that ar Lou
Hornsby; yit she's got lots purtier motions."

"Well, I seed 'er, maw," said Bud, gazing into t