gin' her up here 'alone with two rough old
codgers,' an' I jest want to give her a better chance than the
Territory affords. I want her to git free of us and all like us, for a
while; let her see something of the world. Besides, that business over
in Belleplain to-day kind o' settled me. The plain facts are, Ans, the
people are a little too free with her because she is growin' up
here----"

"I know some fellers that won't be again."

"Well, they are beginnin' to wink an' nudge each other an' to say----"

"Go on! What do they say?"

"They say she's goin' to be a woman soon; that this fatherly business
is bound to play out."

"I'd like to see anybody wink when I'm around. I'd smash 'em!" said
Anson through his set teeth. "Why, she's our little babe," he broke
out, as the full significance of the matter came to him. "My little un;
I'm her ol' pap. Why----" He ended in despair. "It's none o' their darn
business."

"There ain't no use o' howlin', Ans. You can't smash a whole neighborhood."

"But what are we goin' to do?"

"Well, I'll tell ye what we mustn't do. We mustn't tog her out jest
yet."

"Why not?" asked Anson, not seeing these subtle distinctions of time
and place.

"Because, you tog her out this week or next, without any apparent
reason, in a new hat an' dress an' gloves, an' go down to one o' these
sociables with her, an' you'd have to clean out the whole crowd. They'd
all be winkin' an' nudgin' an' grinnin'--see?"

"Wal, go on," said the crushed giant. "What'll we do?"

"Just let things go on as they are for the present till we git ready to
send her to school."

"But I promised the togs."

"All right. I've stated the case," Gearheart returned, with the air of
a man who washed his hands of the whole affair.

Anson rose with a sudden gesture. "Jest hear her! whistlin' away like a
lark. I don't see how I'm goin' to go in there an' spoil all her fun; I
can't do it, that's all."

"Well, now, you leave it all to me. I'll state the case to her in a way
that'll catch her--see if I don't. She ain't no common girl."

It was growing dark as they went in, and the girl's face could not be
seen.

"Well, Bert, are y' ready to help churn?"

"Yes, I guess so, if Ans'll milk."

"Oh, he'll milk; he jest loves to milk ol' Brindle when the flies are
thick."

"Oh, you bet," said Ans, to make her laugh.

"Now, Flaxen," coughed Gearheart in beginning, "we've been discussin'
your case, an' we've come to the