e did have some such bargain," she replied. "That's why I can't
understand your hidin' at my back door and whistlin' and wavin' like a
young one. What did you come here for, anyway?"

Seth answered with righteous indignation.

"I come for my shirt," he declared.

"Your shirt?"

"Yes, my other shirt. I left it in the kitchen this mornin', and
that--that helper of mine says you was in the chair along with it."

"Humph! Did he have the impudence to say I took it?"

"No--o. No, course he didn't. But it's gone and--and--"

"What would I want of your shirt? Didn't think I was cal'latin' to wear
it, did you?"

"No, but--"

"I should hope not. I ain't a Doctor Mary Walker, or whatever her name
is."

"But you did take it, just the same. I'm sartin you did. You must have."

The lady's mouth relaxed, and there was a twinkle in her eye.

"All right, Seth," she said. "Suppose I did; what then?"

"I want it back, that's all."

"You can have it. Now what do you s'pose I took it for?"

"I--I--I don't know."

"You don't know? Humph! Did you think I wanted to keep it as a souveneer
of last night's doin's?"

Her companion looked rather foolish. He picked up a handful of sand and
sifted it through his fingers.

"No--o," he stammered. "I--I know how partic'lar you are--you used to
be about such things, and I thought maybe you didn't like the way that
button was sewed on."

He glanced up at her with an embarrassed smile, which broadened as he
noticed her expression.

"Well," she admitted, "you guessed right. There's some things I can't
bear to have in my neighborhood, and your kind of sewin' is one of 'em.
Besides, I owed you that much for keepin' me out of the wet last night."

"Oh! I judged by the way you lit into me for luggin' you acrost that
marsh that all you owed me was a grudge. I DID lug you, though, in spite
of your kickin', didn't I?"

He nodded with grim triumph. She smiled.

"You did, that's a fact," she said. "I was pretty mad at the time, but
when I come to think it over I felt diff'rent. Anyhow I've sewed on
those buttons the way they'd ought to be."

"Much obliged. I guess they'll stay now for a spell. You always could
sew on buttons better'n anybody ever I see."

"Humph!" . . . Then, after an interval of silence: "What are you
grinnin' to yourself about?"

"Hey? . . . Oh, I was just thinkin' how you mended up that Rogers
young one's duds when he fell out of our Bartlett pear tree. He was th