inally said:

"Come on--less hurry up. Dat comp'ny will git tired waitin' fer us!"

"Dat comp'ny is gone done it," Plaster sighed. "I peeped through de
crack in de door an' seed 'em. Hitch Diamond knocked fo' times, den
opened de door an' picked up dem breakfast-dishes an' trod out."

"Dat's too bad," Pearline remarked with no interest whatever. She was
looking at herself in the mirror. "I'd like to seen Hitchie. He use to
be one of my ole sweethearts."

"Come out an' set under de tree wid me an' mebbe dat ole sweetheart of
yourn will come back," Plaster suggested.

"I don't like to git out in de sunshine," the girl replied. "Dar's too
much glare."

"Too much--which?" Plaster asked.

"Glare."

"Yes'm."

Plaster stood looking at her helplessly, wondering where they were going
from there.

"Does you love me, Plaster?" the girl asked, siding up to him and
stepping on the chain.

"Yes'm," Plaster answered as he pulled the chain from under her feet and
rubbed his wrist. "Don't step on dat chain no mo'. You might break it."

"How come you don't tell me you loves me?"

"I done tole you 'bout fawty times dis mawnin'," Plaster reminded her.

"But you ain't never tole me onless I axed you."

"Less go somewhar an' set down an' I'll tell you a millyum times,"
Plaster said eagerly.

"Bless Gawd, I knows you loves me a plum' plenty, but I likes to hear
you tell dem words. Wait a minute till I puts--er--I b'lieve I oughter
change de collar on dis dress. A clean one would make me look mo'
fresher."

Plaster lingered until the woman was dressed to her fancy, resting his
weight first on one impatient leg, then upon the other.

"You wastes a heap of time fixin' yo'se'f, Pearly," he sighed at last.
"I hopes you'll soon git dressed up fer de day."

"You wants yo' wife to look nice, don't you?" she asked reproachfully.

"Yes'm."

"How kin I look nice 'thout takin' de time to dress?"

They went out and sat down under the pecan-tree in the "glare." Pearline
seemed to have forgotten the glare. Plaster lighted a cigarette, smoked
it to the end, lighted another, smoked it to the end, and lighted
another. Then Pearline remarked:

"Honey, does you love me more dan you loves dem cigareets?"

"I shore does"--with moderate fervor.

"Does you love me a millyum times mo' dan you loves cigareets?"

"Suttinly."

"Den, fer gossake, throw dem cigareets away! Dey smells like some kind
o' fumigate."

"I cain't do that, Pe