fair lady's favor with deeds of prowess, ever yet surpassed a modern
mighty man with a mission. Devotion itself is paralyzed when it comes
to them.

At the Bigge House, as one may suppose, there had been considerable
consternation when its young master announced his intention of taking
to wife old Jacob Creecy's daughter. Consternation, but hardly
surprise; for Rube had ever been one of those lawless members of
well-conducted households privileged to say and do outrageous things,
and expected to turn out of the beaten track on the slightest
provocation.

Miss Rutland was most concerned. Said she to her brother:

"Rube, why not marry a female Ojibbwa, and be done with it? _That_
would be an improvement on Mell Creecy as a _mesalliance_. My God!
Rube, you can't bring a girl here into this house as your wife, whose
father talks like a nigger, who says 'dis,' and 'dat,' and 'udder;' or
do you expect to hold your position in society, your place among
honorable men, simply by the grace of heaven?"

This was severe; but it was not all--not half, in fact, that Rube had
to hear before he got rid of Clara. But it was not the first time he
had brought a hornet's nest about his ears, nor swam against the
stream, nor borne the brunt of Clara's tongue. Through much practice
Rube had pretty well mastered the art of holding out, which does not
consist so much in talking back as in saying nothing. Moreover, his
cause was good, and half a man can hold out with a good cause to hold
on. One hard speech Rube did make to Clara; he told her, in effect,
that whatever might be the grammatical shortcomings of old Jacob
Creecy himself, his daughter knew more in one single minute than Clara
would ever learn in a lifetime.

Mrs. Rutland was not less unwilling, but more reasonable.

"You are my only son," she said to him, "my first-born. I expected you
to add lustre to the family and make a great match."

"The family is illustrious enough," replied he; "if not, it will never
be more illustrious at my expense. I will have none of your great
matches, mother. I intend to marry the woman I love. I have loved her
ever since she was a child. None of the rest of you need marry her,
however; I will not impose that task upon you. But Mellville is to be
my wife to a dead certainty, and I am my own master."

"You are, my son. I have not sought to prevent your marrying her. I
have only expressed my disappointment."

"Well, I am sorry about that. But