an, but don't you reckon a man wants to unstring himself
once in a while? They can't understand us, Hawes. Women know all about
the heart, but they are sometimes off on the soul."

"You think more of those old chickens than you do of me, anyhow," his
wife whimpered, still resentful that he was not leaning upon her for
support.

"Did you hear that, Hawes? By jings, sir, you've got to be foolish or a
woman will think you've ceased to love her. The minute you are strong
she thinks you have forgotten her. About the happiest woman I ever saw
was one that had to support a bed-ridden husband. Fact, as sure as I'm
standin' right here. She was the kindest and sweetest thing you ever
saw, but when the feller got up finally and got strong enough to go
about, blamed if she didn't jump on him every time he come in sight."

"Now, Limuel, you know you are makin' up every word of that."

"It's the truth, I tell you--knowed the man well."

"Well, who was he?"

"Oh, he lived away over yonder on the branch, out of your range."

"He didn't live anywhere; that's the truth of it."

"But, Susan, he might have lived anywhere. His name is man and his
wife's name is woman. What, you goin' to cry about it? Now, there, it's
all right. No, there never was such a man. I'm an old liar, that's
what's the matter with me. Never was a man fitten to live with a good
woman. Why, bless your life, what would I be without you? Why, you've
been the makin' of me. And a long time ago, when I used to drink licker
and fight, you'd set up and wait for me and you never scolded me, and
that very fact turned me agin licker, for I jest nachully thought that
it was too much work for you to keep up a show of good humor all the
time. Yes, it's all right, and that boy's comin' out of there without a
scar on him, and I'll pay back the money that I owe the General----" He
hastened out of the room, and we heard him yelling at his chickens.

CHAPTER XIV.

I went to town every day, and every night I returned, self-charged with
hope; and now the trial was at hand. When the work of impaneling the
jury was begun, old Conkwright was there with his challenges. How shrewd
he was, how sharp were his eyes. And when night came the panel was far
from complete.

"It will take a long time at this rate," I said, as we were leaving the
court-room.

"I don't care if it takes a thousand years; they sha'n't ring in a
stuffed toad on me," replied the ex-judge. "Did you noti