kely to make a squirrel into a nut."

Zeke smiled, somewhat ruefully. He understood the play on words since
"boomer," the mountaineers' own name for the red squirrel, is often
applied to themselves. But the distraction afforded by the garrulous
veteran was a relief. A new spur was given to their mutual interest
when, after telling his name, it was discovered that his father had
been a company-mate with Seth Jones, the veteran, in the Twelfth North
Carolina Volunteers. The old man's curiosity was highly gratified by
this explanation of the inherited likeness that had puzzled him, and
he waxed reminiscent and confidential. The diversion was welcome to
his listener, where doubtless many another might have found the
narrative of by-gone campaigns tedious in this prolix retelling.
Ultimately, indeed, the youth's sympathies were aroused by Jones' tale
of misfortune in love, wherein his failure to write the girl he left
behind him had caused her first to mourn him as dead, and eventually
to marry her second choice.

"But I've jest got scrumptious news," he exclaimed, his rheumy eyes
suddenly clear and sparkling. "Seems as how Fanny's a widder. So, I'm
a-goin' to try my luck, an' no shelly-shallyin', now I've got her
located arter a mighty lot o' huntin'. Yes, sir, sonny," he concluded,
with a guffaw, "old as I be, I'm a-goin' a-courtin'. If I ever see ye
ag'in, I'll tell ye how it comes out. I s'pose I seem plumb old fer
sech foolishness to a boy like you be, but some hearts keep young till
they stop. I'm pretty spry fer my age, too, if I do say so as
shouldn't."

Zeke was not so surprised by the old man's hopes as he might have
been, were it not for the example of Plutina's grandfather, who,
somewhat beyond four-score, was still scandalously lively, to the
delectation of local gossip. But, though after the departure of Jones
at a junction, Zeke reflected half-amusedly on the rather sere
romances of these two ancient Romeos, he was far from surmising that,
at the last, their amorous paths would cross.

There was still further harrowing experience for Zeke after reaching
the Southern Railway's terminal on the pier at Pinner's Point, in
Virginia, for here he was hurried aboard the ferry-boat, and was
immediately appalled by the warning blast of the whistle. Few bear
that strident din undismayed. This adventurer had never heard the
like--only the lesser warning of locomotives and the siren of a
tannery across twenty miles of