generosity, "you and
Ned will quarrel about those teeth till the day of doom, so I will make
you a wedding present of another set, that you may begin married life in
harmony."

Aunt Anniky expressed her gratitude. "An' _dis_ time," she said, with
sudden fury, "I sleeps wid 'em _in_."

The teeth were presented, and the wedding preparations began. The
expectant bride went over to Ned's cabin and gave it such a clearing up
as it had never had. But Ned did not seem happy. He devoted himself
entirely to his pigs, and wandered about looking more wizened every day.
Finally he came to our gate and beckoned to me mysteriously.

"Come over to my house, honey," he whispered, "an' bring a pen an' ink
an' a piece o' paper wid yer. I wants yer ter write me a letter."

I ran into the house for my little writing-desk, and followed Uncle Ned
to his cabin.

"Now, honey," he said, after barring the door carefully, "don't you ax
me no questions, but jes' put down de words dat comes out o' my mouf on
dat ar paper."

"Very well, Uncle Ned, go on."

"Anniky Hobbleston," he began, "dat weddin' ain't a-gwine ter come off.
You cleans up too much ter suit me. I ain't used ter so much water
splashin' aroun'. Dirt is warmin'. 'Spec I'd freeze dis winter if you
wuz here. An' you got too much tongue. Besides, I's got anudder wife
over in Tipper. An' I ain't a-gwine ter marry. As fur havin' de law, I's
a leavin' dese parts, an' I takes der pigs wid me. Yer can't fin' _dem_,
an' yer can't fin' _me_. _Fur I ain't a-gwine ter marry._ I wuz born a
bachelor, an' a bachelor will I represent myself befo' de judgment-seat.
If you gives yer promise ter say no mo' 'bout dis marryin' business,
p'r'aps I'll come back some day. So no mo' at present, from your humble
worshipper,

"NED CUDDY."

"Isn't that last part rather inconsistent?" said I, greatly amused.

"Yes, honey, if yer says so; an' it's kind o' soothin' to de feelin's of
a woman, yer know."

I wrote it all down and read it aloud to Uncle Ned.

"Now, my chile," he said, "I'm a-gwine ter git on my mule as soon as der
moon rises, an' drive my pigs ter Col' Water Gap, whar I'll stay an'
fish. Soon as I am well gone, you take dis letter ter Anniky; but
_min'_, don't tell whar I's gone. An' if she takes it all right, an'
promises ter let me alone, you write me a letter, an' I'll git de fust
Methodis' preacher I run across in der woods ter read it ter me. Den, ef