rink,
Parson?"

"Suttinly!" Rasba cried. "Hit ain' no ust for me to preach! I preach,
an' the congregation murders one anotheh! Ef I don't preach, I cayn't
live peaceable! They say hit makes a man happy--I ain' be'n happy, not
in ten, not in twenty yeahs!"

He caught up the jug that rested on the floor, threw the tin cup to one
side, up-ended the receptacle, and the moonshiner and his customers
stared.

"Theh!" Rasba grunted, when he had to take the jug down for breath. He
reached into his pocket, drew out a silver dollar, and handed it to the
amazed mountain man.

"Theh!" he repeated, defiantly. "I've shore gone to Hell, now, an' I
don't give a damn, nuther. S'long, boys! D'rectly, yo'l heah me jes' a
whoopin', yas suh! Jes' a whoopin'!"

He left them abruptly and he went up into the darkness of the laurels.
They heard him crashing away into the night. When he was gone the men
looked at one another:

"Yo' 'low he'll bring the revenuers?" one asked, nervously.

"Bring nothin'!" another grinned. "No man eveh lived could drink fifteen
big gulps, like he done, an' git furder'n a stuck hog, no, suh!"

They listened for the promised whoops; they strained their ears for the
cries of jubilation; but none came.

"Co'rse," the stiller explained, as though an explanation were needed,
"Parson Rasba ain' used to hit; he could carry more, an' hit'll take him
longer to get lit up. But, law me, when hit begins to act! That's three
yeah old, boys, mild, but no mewl yo' eveh saw has the kick that's got,
apple an' berry cider, stilled down from the ferment!"

CHAPTER II

Virtue had not been rewarded. This much was clear and plain to the
consciousness of Nelia Carline. Looking at herself in the glass
disclosed no special reason why she should be unhappy and suffering. She
was a pretty girl; everybody said that, and envy said she was too
pretty. It seemed that poor folks had no right to be good-looking,
anyhow.

If poor folks weren't good-looking, then wealthy young men, with nothing
better to do, wouldn't go around looking among poor folks for pretty
girls. Augustus Carline had, apparently, done that. Carline had a
fortune that had been increased during three generations, and now he
didn't have to work. That was bad in Gage, Illinois. It had never done
any one any good, that kind of living. One of the fruits of the matter
was when Nelia Crele's pretty face attracted his attention. She lived in
a shack up the Botto