ust set there and thrilled. I could feel Nettie and Chet thrilling,
too, and I says, 'There's nothing to it--not from now on.'

"The applause didn't bust loose till almost a minute after she'd kissed
the cross in that rich brown voice of hers, and even then my couple
didn't join in. Nettie set still, all frozen and star-eyed, and Chester
was choking and sniffling awful emotionally. 'I've sure nailed the young
fools,' I thinks. And, of course, this lady had to sing it again, and
not half through was she when, sure enough, I glanced down sideways and
Chet's right hand and her left hand is squirming together till they look
like a bunch of eels. 'All over but the rice,' I says, and at that I
felt so good and thrilled! I was thinking back to my own time when I was
just husband-high, though that wasn't so little, Lysander John being a
scant six foot three--and our wedding tour to the Centennial and the
trip to Niagara Falls--just soaking in old memories that bless and bind
that this lady singer was calling up--well, you could have had anything
from me right then when she kissed that cross a second time, just
pouring her torn heart out. 'Worth every cent of that fifty,' I says.

"Then everybody was standing up and moving out--wiping their eyes a lot
of 'em was--so I push on ahead quick, aiming to be more wily than ever
and leave my couple alone. They don't miss me, either. When I look back,
darned if they ain't kind of shaking hands right there in the hall.
'Quick work!' I says. 'You got to hand it to that song.' Even then I
noticed Nettie was looking back to where Wilbur was tripping down from
the platform, and Chester had his eyes glazed over on this manicure
party. Still, they was gripping each other's hands right there before
folks, and I think they're just a bit embarrassed. My old heart went
right on echoing that song as I pushed forward--not looking back again,
I was that certain.

"And to show you the mushy state I was in, here is old Safety First
himself leering at me down by the door, with a clean shave and his other
clothes on, and he says all about how it was a grand evening's musical
entertainment and how much will the Belgians get in cold cash, anyway,
and how about them hundred and fifty head of bull calves that he was
willing to take off my hands, and me, all mushed up by that song as I
am telling you, saying to him in a hearty manner, 'They're yours, Dave!
Take 'em at your own price, old friend.' Honest, I sa