ad!
Talked in sich a winnin' way
Got her whar' she named the day,
With her shiny head at rest
On my speckled Sunday vest!
An', whilst in that happy state,
Bill--he rid up to the gate.

V

Well, sir-ee!... He sot him down--
Cheapest lookin' chap in town!
(Knowed at once I'd set my traps!)
Talked 'bout weather, an' the craps,
An' a thousan' things; an' then--
Jest the lonesomest o' men--
Said he had so fur to ride,
Reckoned it wuz time to slide!

VI

But I hollered out: "Ol' boy,
Might's well shake, an' wish me joy!
I hain't seen the woman yit
That this feller couldn't git!"

THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED AN OWL

BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON

When the children got home from the nutting expedition and had eaten
supper, they sat around discontentedly, wishing every few minutes that
their mother had returned.

"I wish mamma would come back," said Ned. "I never know what to do in
the evening when she isn't home."

"I 'low 'bout de bes' you-all kin do is ter lemme putt you ter baid,"
said Aunt 'Phrony.

"Don't want to go to bed," "I'm not sleepy," "Want to stay up," came in
chorus from three pairs of lips.

"You chillen is wusser dan night owls," said the old woman. "Ef you
keeps on wid dis settin'-up-all-night bizness, I boun' some er you gwine
turn inter one'r dese yer big, fussy owls wid yaller eyes styarin', jes'
de way li'l Mars Kit doin' dis ve'y minnit, tryin' ter keep hisse'f
awake. An' dat 'mines me uv a owl whar turnt hisse'f inter a man, an' ef
a owl kin do dat, w'ats ter hinner one'r you-all turnin' inter a owl, I
lak ter know? So you bes' come 'long up ter baid, an' ef you is right
spry gettin' raidy, mebbe I'll whu'l in an' tell you 'bout dat owl."

The little procession moved upstairs, Coonie, the house-boy, bringing up
the rear with an armful of sticks and some fat splinters of lightwood,
which were soon blazing with an oily sputter. Coonie scented a story,
and his bullet pate was bent over the fire an unnecessarily long time,
as he blew valiant puffs upon the flames which no longer needed his
assistance, and arranged and rearranged his skilfully piled sticks.

"Quit dat foolishness, nigger," said 'Phrony at last, "an' set down on
de ha'th an' 'have yo'se'f. Ef you wanter stay, whyn't you sesso,
stidder blowin' yo'se'f black in de face? Now, den, ef y'all raidy, I
gwine begin.

"Dish yer w'at I gwine tell happe