tterson replied, looking down with a
demure smile; "not nearly so well as I hope you will some day."

Abner flushed warmly, and his pulse leaped high with hope; for he
interpreted the words to refer to a closer relationship between Abby
and himself. "Of course," he thought jubilantly, "I shall become well
acquainted with Betsy's prospective husband, when Abby shall have
accepted me."

"Whoever he may be," said Abner, heartily, "since he has your approval,
I wish him Godspeed with Betty; for," he added in a lower key, and
frowning slightly, as he looked at Mr. Drane, "I can not, for the life
of me, cordially like or trust yonder fine gentleman. But what about
this other lover for Betty?"

"At present," Abby answered with a meaning which Abner was far from
construing correctly, "he thinks his affections are centered in a far
less worthy object; and he is blind to his heart's best interests."

"Let us hope that this blind Romeo may soon be restored to sight,"
laughed Abner; "or else, that dear little Juliet yonder will be carried
off by some clearer-visioned wooer. But see, Mr. Rogers has at last
restrung that fiddle and tuned it to his notion; so now for our dance!"

No stately minuet or mincing cotillion was the order of the evening.
Instead, the "countre dance," the "gauntlet," the "four-handed
reel"--old-time, energetic country dancing--shook the rafters overhead,
and made the puncheon floor vibrate. Such jigging, such "cutting the
pigeon wing," such swinging corners! No languid, lazy gliding, but
hearty motion--up and down, round and round, faster and faster, as the
twinkling bow sawed across the strings to the tune of "Coon Dog," "Roxy
Ann," "Billy Batters," or "Niggah in the Cawnfield."

Rousing music it was--"enough," as Rube and Tom declared, "to mek even
a one-legged fellah git up an' hump hisse'f."

Mason Rogers at one end of the room, his eyes beaming, his face
shining, made the fiddle hum and sing. Interspersed with his music came
energetic promptings, "Balance all!" "Swing yer pardnahs!" "Ladies,
chain!" "Gals to the centah, an' boys all around!" Sometimes he
admonished some laggard or blunderer, "Hurry, thah, Sammy!" "Bill, to
the left!" his feet the while tapping the floor, and his body swaying
rhythmically as his right arm swung the bow and the fingers of his left
hand twinkled over the strings. A further incentive to merriment was
the excited admiration of the negroes gathered outside at doors and