"unless it be Miss Josey's juvenility."

"Hush laughing," said Rube, drawing near and speaking low. "See here,
Devonhough, you don't care the snap of your finger about this affair;
you've said as much; so hold back, dear old fellow, won't you? Give me
a chance!"

"Ha! ha! ha!" roared Jerome, again going off. "'_Dear old fellow._'
That's rich! Very dear old fellow, never so dear before!"

"Oh, go along with you," responded Rube crossly. "Go to the devil
until you can stop laughing!"

He was about to turn off in high dudgeon, when Jerome with an effort
pulled himself together and soberly considered the subject. "Hold on,
then! I'd like to oblige you Rutland, of course I would, but there's
Clara! She expects me to--"

"Hang Clara!" said Rube, with the natural unfraternalness of a
brother.

"That's what I propose to do," answered Jerome. "Hang her with a
wreath!"

"Don't!" again pleaded Rube. "Not this time. If you just won't,
I'll--"

"Rub-a-dub-dub!" beat the drum.

"Into place!" shouted a stentorian voice.

"Ready?"

"One--two--Boom!"

They were off in fine style, Jerome quickly showing the lead, and Rube
gaining gradually upon him towards the middle of the course. To one
spectator it was more interesting than the sword-dance, more exciting
than a steeple-chase. But the eager spectators at the starting place
could see very little beyond a certain point, owing to the crowd of
boys and men which lined the sides of the track and closed up as the
runners passed. They could hear vociferous yelling and screaming,
sometimes the outcry, "Devonhough ahead!" and then, again, "Hurrah for
Rutland!" and, at the last, a tremendous whooping and cheering and
clapping of hands, in which no name was at first distinguishable.
Then, amid the unbounded enthusiasm of the multitude, the victor was
lifted above the heads of the crowd and brought back in triumph.

Mell had scarcely moved from the spot where Rube left her. She had
had some time for reflection, and had profited by it, to such an
extent, that she now felt quite miserable. That was the way with Mell,
and continues to be the way with Mell's kind. They make a practice of
hitching together the cart of Unthought and the sure-footed beast
Think-twice; the cart in front, the horse in the rear; and if, under
such circumstances the poor brute, nine times out of ten, lands his
living freight into very hot water, too hot for their tender feelings,
who is to blame for it?