the
rebellion had broken out, he found Joe sitting on the beam of his plow
and the well-pleased horse asleep in the sun.

Isom said nothing, but plunged away into the tall corn. When he came
back next time Joe was unhitching his horse.

"Now, look a-here, Joe," Isom began, in quite a changed tone, "don't you
fly up and leave an old man in the lurch that way."

"You know what I said," Joe told him.

"I'll give in to you, Joe; I'll give you everything you ask for, and
more," yielded Isom, seeing that Joe intended to leave. "I'll put it in
writing if you want me to Joe--I'll do anything to keep you, son. You're
the only man I ever had on this place I wouldn't rather see goin' than
comin'."

Isom's word was satisfactory to Joe, and he returned to work.

That turned out a day to be remembered in the household of Isom Chase.
If he had come into the kitchen at noon with all the hoarded savings of
his years and thrown them down before her eyes, Ollie could not have
been more surprised and mystified than she was when he appeared from the
smokehouse carrying a large ham.

After his crafty way in a tight pinch Isom turned necessity into profit
by making out that the act was free and voluntary, with the pleasure and
comfort of his pretty little wife underlying and prompting it all. He
grinned as if he would break his beard when he put the ham down on the
table and cut it in two at the middle joint as deftly as a butcher.

"I've been savin' that ham up for you, Ollie. I think it's just about
right now," said he.

"That was nice of you, Isom," said she, moved out of her settled
taciturnity by his little show of thought for her, "I've been just dying
for a piece of ham!"

"Well, fry us a big skilletful of it, and some eggs along with it, and
fetch up a crock of sweet milk, and stir it up cream and all," directed
Isom.

Poor Ollie, overwhelmed by the suddenness and freedom of this
generosity, stood staring at him, her eyes round, her lips open. Isom
could not have studied a more astounding surprise. If he had hung
diamonds on her neck, rubies on her wrists, and garnets in her hair, she
could quicker have found her tongue.

"It's all right, Ollie, it's all right," said Isom pettishly. "We're
going to have these things from now on. Might as well eat 'em, and git
some of the good of what we produce, as let them city people fatten off
'em."

Isom went out with that, and Ollie attacked the ham with the butcher
knife in a