o her.

She turned and shook her head. Whatever her own new plans may have
become, she was once more happy and laughing.

"Come, Daphne!"

She walked several paces further and turned and shook her head again.

"Come!" he pleaded.

She laughed at him.

He wheeled round to his mare grazing near. As he put his foot into the
stirrup, he looked again: she was standing in the same place,
laughing still.

"_You_ go," she cried, waving him good-by. "There'll not be a soul to
disturb you! To-morrow--at four o'clock!"

"Will you be there?" he said.

"Will you?" she answered.

"I'll be there to-morrow," he said, "and every other day till you come."

By permission of the Macmillan Company, Publishers.

OLD KING SOLOMON'S CORONATION

From 'Flute and Violin, and Other Kentucky Tales and Romances' Copyright
1891, by Harper and Brothers.

He stood on the topmost of the court-house steps, and for a moment
looked down on the crowd with the usual air of official severity.

"Gentlemen," he then cried out sharply, "by an ordah of the cou't I now
offah this man at public sale to the highes' biddah. He is able-bodied
but lazy, without visible property or means of suppoht, an' of dissolute
habits. He is therefoh adjudged guilty of high misdemeanahs, an' is to
be sole into labah foh a twelvemonth. How much, then, am I offahed foh
the vagrant? How much am I offahed foh ole King Sol'mon?"

Nothing was offered for old King Solomon. The spectators formed
themselves into a ring around the big vagrant, and settled down to enjoy
the performance.

"Staht 'im, somebody."

Somebody started a laugh, which rippled around the circle.

The sheriff looked on with an expression of unrelaxed severity, but
catching the eye of an acquaintance on the outskirts, he exchanged a
lightning wink of secret appreciation. Then he lifted off his tight
beaver hat, wiped out of his eyes a little shower of perspiration which
rolled suddenly down from above, and warmed a degree to his theme.

"Come, gentlemen," he said more suasively, "it's too hot to stan' heah
all day. Make me an offah! You all know ole King Sol'mon; don't wait to
be interduced. How much, then, to staht 'im? Say fifty dollahs!
Twenty-five! Fifteen! Ten! Why, gentlemen! Not _ten_ dollahs? Remembah,
this is the Blue-Grass Region of Kentucky--the land of Boone an' Kenton,
the home of Henry Clay!" he added, in an oratorical _crescendo_.

"He ain't wuth his victuals," said an oily lit