a scarf of red yarn, and as she stood
taking it off, with the fire-light dancing among the kinks of her
flax-like hair, the old man stepped forward to help her.

"Hands off," said Tom. "Don't touch her."

"Wolfish protector of a lamb," the old man replied, "I ought to throw
you out; but it is not my mission to cast out devils."

The girl sat down on a bench and Tom took a seat beside her; and with
many a giggle and a "quit that, now," they picked at each other. Old
Gid, in his splint-bottomed chair, leaned back against the wall and
feasted his eyes upon their antics. "Kittens," said he, "I will get you
a string and a button. Ah, Lord, I was once a delicious idiot."

"And you've simply lost your deliciousness," Tom replied.

"Ah, and in its place took up age. But with it came wisdom, Thomas."

"But didn't it come too late?"

"The wise utterance of a foolish youth," said the old man. "Yes, Thomas,
it came too late. Wisdom is not of much use to an old codger. He can't
profit by it himself and nobody wants his advice. Did I ever tell you
about the girl I loved? Ah, she was glorious. June was in her mouth and
October fell out of her hair."

"And you didn't marry her because she was poor, eh?"

"No, but because she was rich, Jimmie. She wanted me not; and she
married a wealthy fool and the imbecile made her happy. I could almost
forgive her for not loving me, for I was a mate on a steamboat, but to
let that fool make her happy--it was too much and I cast her out of my
mind. But when is your wedding to take place? In the sweet light of a
distant moon or within the sunshine of a few days?"

"Hanged if I know."

"Tom!" cried the girl, putting her hands over his mouth, "that's no way
to talk."

"I said it to make you do that," he replied, his voice latticed by her
fingers and sounding afar off. He took her hands and pressed them to his
cheek.

"A pretty picture, and I'll long remember you as you now sit on that
bench," said the old man. "Sallie, how old are you?" he asked.

"I don't know, sir. Pap and mother couldn't put it down 'cause they
didn't know how to figger, and when I got so I could figger a little
they had dun forgot the year and the day of the month. Most of the time
when I'm by myself I feel old enough, but sometimes Uncle Wash calls me
foolish and then I'm awful young. But Aunt Martha never calls me foolish
'cause I help her in the kitchen."

There came a scratching at the threshold. The old man go