idea of bein' slow, I'd wish to
avoid you when you was in a hurry.'

"I says, 'Put in yo' spare moments thinkin' up a suitable blessin' fo'
us.'

"He says, 'You'll have yo' hands full. There's a number of young fellows
hereabouts that you don't lay it over none in p'int of freshness or
looks.'

"I says, 'Does she encourage any of 'em?'

"He says, 'Nope, she don't. Ain't I been tellin' you she's givin' her
mind to keepin' house fo' her pore old father?'

"I says, 'If she don't encourage 'em none, she shore must disencourage
'em. I 'low she gets my help in that.'

"He says, 'They'll run you so far into the mountings, Mr. Cavendish,
you'll never be heard tell of again in these parts.'

"I says, 'I'll bust the heads offen these here galoots if they try
that!'

"He asks, grinnin', 'Have you arranged how yo' remains are to be sent
back to yo' folks?'

"I says, 'I'm an orphan man of title, a peer of England, and you can
leave me lay if it cones to that.'

"'Well,'. he says, 'if them's yo' wishes, the buzzards as good as got
you."' Cavendish lapsed into a momentary silence. It was plain that
these were cherished memories.

"That's what I call co'tin!" remarked Mr. Yancy, with conviction.

The Earl of Lambeth resumed

"It was as bad as old man Rhett said it was. Sundays his do'yard looked
like a militia muster. They told it on him that he hadn't cut a stick
of wood since Polly was risin' twelve. I reckon, without exaggeration,
I fit every unmarried man in that end of the county, and two lookin'
widowers from Nashville. I served notice on to them that I'd attend to
that woodpile of old man Rhett's fo' the future; that I was qualifying
fo' to be his son-in-law, and seekin' his indorsement as a provider. I
took 'em on one at a time as they happened along, and lambasted 'em all
over the place. As fo' the Nashville widowers," said Cavendish with a
chuckle, and a nod to Polly, "I pretty nigh drownded one of 'em in the
Elk. We met in mid-stream and fit it out there; and the other quit the
county. That was fo'teen years ago; but, mind you, I'd do it all over
again to-morrow."

"But, Dick, you ain't telling Mr. Yancy nothin' about yo' title,"
expostulated Polly.

"I'd admire to hear mo' about that," said Yancy.

"I'm gettin' round to that. It was my great grandfather come over here
from England. His name was Richard Keppel Cavendish, same as mine is.
He lived back yonder on the Carolina coast and went to raisin' to