laziness of early summer. Lou, bound about with flowering
vines, captive May-queen in purple chains, sat on the rear seat with
Tom; and she was shy in this close touch with the mysterious world from
afar off; and her timidity made him timid, this youth whose earliest
recollection was the booming of cannon, as he played upon a cavalryman's
blanket, waiting for his father to return from the charge. Motherless,
the pet of the battalion, his playthings the accoutrements of war, his
"stick horse," a sabre, his confidential companion a brass field piece.
Old soldiers, devoted to their colonel, carried him about on their
shoulders, and handsome women made him vain and bold with their kisses;
but in the presence of this mountain girl he was subdued. Jim and Mrs.
Mayfield sat together--that is, he sat out on the end of a board, as
far away from her as he could get, and once when the wheel ran over a
stone he fell off.

"Oh," she cried, "you must be hurt."

He got up, with his jack-o'-lantern smile, dusted himself and said:

"I--I would fall for you any time, ma'm."

"But," she laughed, "I didn't want you to fall."

"Didn't you? Well, I beg yo' pardon, I thought you did."

Kintchin, who sat in front, ducked his head and chuckled.

"Oh, de folks up yere is de 'commerdatinist you eber seed. Da'll stand
up fur you ur fall down fur you ur do anythin' you pleases. Sorry I come
off an' furgot suthin'. Allus de way--man furgits whut he needs de
mos.'"

"Did you forget something, Kintchin?" Mrs. Mayfield inquired.

"Yas'm, come off an' furgot twenty-fi' cents dat I wanted to fetch wid
me. I owes er quarter ter er crap-shootin' nigger ober dar, an' when I
kain't pay him he gwine retch his han' up atter my wool. I doan want no
big nigger retchin' atter me, caze I ain't right well dis mawin'. Co'se
ef I wuz well I wouldn' mine it so much, but ez it is, it bodders me
might'ly. You neber had no trouble wid er crap-shootin' nigger, ef you
had you'd be mo' consarned. Anybody gwine gib me er quarter."

"I'll give you a testament," said Jim, looking back and smiling at Tom.

"Testament! Ointment you better say," replied Kintchin. "Testament ain't
gwine be no mo' fo'ce wid dem niggers den de Lawd's pra'r would wid er
wild haug. Huh, I'se er dreadin' eber step o' de way ober dar."

"Here's a quarter," said Mrs. Mayfield, handing him a piece of silver.

"Thankee, ma'm. Oh, you's whut da calls er missiunary, an' I gwine he'p
ole black m