inister nor trial-jestice nor
eighteen-carat ring nor stificate could 'a' made Fiddy Maddox anybody's
own 'ceptin' the devil's, an' he wouldn't 'a' married her; she'd 'a'
ben too near kin. We'd never 'spicioned she 'd git 's fur 's marryin'
anybody, 'n' she only married Dixie 'cause he told her he 'd take her to
the Wareham House to dinner, 'n' to the County Fair afterwards; if any
other feller hed offered to take her to supper, 'n' the theatre on top
o' that, she 'd 'a' married him instid."

"How 'd the old woman take it?" asked Steve.

"She disowned her daughter _punctilio:_ in the first place, fer runnin'
away 'stid o' hevin' a church weddin'; 'n' second place, fer marryin' a
pauper (that was what she called him; 'n' it was true, for they 'd spent
every cent he hed); 'n' third place, fer alienatin' the 'fections of a
travelin' baker-man she hed her eye on fer herself. He was a kind of a
flour-food peddler, that used to drive a cart round by Hard Scrabble,
Moderation, 'n' Scratch Corner way. Mis' Maddox used to buy all her
baked victuals of him, 'specially after she found out he was a widower
beginnin' to take notice. His cart used to stand at her door so long
everybody on the rout would complain o' stale bread. But bime bye Fiddy
begun to set at her winder when he druv up, 'n' bime bye she pinned a
blue ribbon in her collar. When she done that, Mis' Maddox alles hed to
take a back seat. The boys used to call it a danger signal. It kind o'
drawed yer 'tention to p'ints 'bout her chin 'n' mouth 'n' neck, 'n' one
thing 'n' 'nother, in a way that was cal'lated to snarl up the thoughts
o' perfessors o' religion 'n' turn 'em earthways. There was a spell
I hed to say, '_Remember_ _Rhapseny!_ _Remember_ _Rhapseny!_' over to
myself whenever Fiddy put on her blue ribbons. Wall, as I say, Fiddy set
at the winder, the baker-man seen the blue ribbons, 'n' Mis' Maddox's
cake was dough. She put on a red ribbon; but land! her neck looked 's if
somebody 'd gone over it with a harrer! Then she stomped round 'n' slat
the dish-rag, but 't wa'n't no use. 'Gracious, mother,' says Fiddy, 'I
don't do nothin' but set at the winder. The sun shines for all.' 'You're
right it does,' says Mis' Maddox, ''n' that's jest what I complain of.
I'd like to get a change to shine on something myself.'

"But the baker-man kep' on comin', though when he got to the Maddoxes'
doorsteps he couldn't make change for a quarter nor tell pie from bread;
an' sure