gence than Teague Poteet. He endeavoured to discuss the
matter with his wife, but Puss Poteet was not the woman to commit
herself. She was a Mountain Sphinx.

"I'm afeard Sis is ailin'," said Teague, upon one occasion.

"Well," replied Puss, "she ain't complainin'."

"That's hit," Teague persisted; "she hain't complainin'. That's what
pesters me. She looks lonesome, an' she's got one er them kinder
fur-away looks in her eyes that gives me the all-overs." The Sphinx rubbed
its snuff and swung in its rocking-chair. "Some days she looks holp up,
an' then ag'in she looks cas' down. I 'low'd maybe you mought know what
ailed her."

"Men folks," said Puss, manipulating her snuff-swab slowly and
deliberately, "won't never have no sense while the worl' stan's. Ef a
'oman ain't gwine hether an' yan', rippity-clippity, day in an' day
out, an' half the night, they er on the'r heads. Wimmen hain't men."

"That's so," replied league gravely, "they hain't. Ef they wuz, the men
'ud be in a mighty nice fix."

"They'd have some sense," said Puss.

"Likely so. Yit 'oman er man kin sliet one eye an' tell that Sis looks
droopy, an' when Sis looks droopy, I know in reason sump'n' nuther ails
her."

"Well, goodness knows; I wish in my soul somebody'd shet one eye an'
look at me," exclaimed Puss, with a touch of jealousy in her tone. "I
traipse 'roun' this hill ontell I'm that wore out I kin skacely drag
one foot alrter t'other, an' I don't never hear nobody up an' ast what
ails me. It's Sis, Sis, Sis, all the time, an' eternally. Ef the calf's
fat, the ole cow ain't got much choice betwixt the quogmire an' the
tan-vat."

"Lord, how you do run on," said the iron-grey giant, rubbing his
knuckles together sheepishly. "You don't know Sis ef you go on that
away. Many's the time that chile 'ud foller me up an' say, 'Pap, ef you
see my shawl a-haugin' out on the fence, Puss'll be asleep, an' don't
you come a-lumberin' in an' wake her up, nuther.' An' many's the time
she'd come out an' meet me, an' up an' say, 'Pap, Puss has takin' an'
bin a-mopin' all day long; yess you an' me go in an' fetch her up.' An'
bless your life," Teague continued, addressing some imaginary person on
the other side of the fireplace, "when me an' Sis sets our heads for to
fetch anybody up, they er thes natchully erbleeged ter come."

Puss rubbed her snuff and swayed to and fro in her rocking-chair,
disdaining to make any reply to this array of facts and arguments