Jasper," his wife spoke up, "why do you allus want to talk about
fightin', an' among preachers at that?"

"I ain't allus doin' that, Margaret. I happened to mention Jim because
fightin' was about the hardest temptation he had to give up, bein' a
Starbuck. But, Laz, the preacher over thar is good."

"How do you know?" Margaret struck in. "You went to sleep."

"Yes," said Jasper, "but he woke me up a time or two, and it takes a
putty good one to do that. The last feller they had over thar didn't; he
jest let me sleep an' dream--one day I dreamed I was a killin' of a wild
cat an' I come mighty nigh a breakin' up the meetin'. But this new man
is a high flyer, Laz. He chaws flat terbacker an' spits right out over
the dash-board." He took out his watch, shook it, held it to his ear,
and glancing at the clock on the mantle-piece, declared: "Either that
clock is a liar or this here watch can't tell the truth. I reckon I have
mo' trouble with time than anybody in the neighborhood. None of my
time-pieces can't git along with one another."

"What diffunce do that make?" Laz drawled. "The sun rises an' sets jest
like thar wan't no watches nur clocks. Wouldn't make no diffunce to me
ef thar wan't none. Shore ter git a feller inter trouble ef he pays much
attention to 'em. The only way for a man to live is jest to let time
take care of itse'f. It always did and I reckon it always will." He went
over to the table, took up the bag and looking at it as if studying a
problem, remarked to Jasper: "I'd like to borry this meal bag ag'in ef
you ain't got no particular use for it."

"All right, Laz, but I mout need it by year after next."

"Ah, hah. Wall, I'll try to have it back by then." He started off slowly
toward the door, halted and looked about.

"Don't see nuthin' else you want to borry, do you, Laz?"

"Nuthin' I can use. Good-day."

Margaret stood near the window, meditating. "Now, let me see."

"Want to know whar we was when he broke in?" Jasper asked, and she gave
him a pathetic look.

"I wan't a thinkin' about that."

"Glad to hear it. Look here, it's a gittin' so a man can't set down and
quarrel with his wife in peace. We air gittin' too crowded in this
neighborhood. Man moved in five miles from here day befo' yistidy."

"Then let's don't quarrel," said Margaret, holding out her hands.

He put his arms about her. "No, we won't. An' don't be jealous of that
po' little grave."

"No, Jasper, for she was the mother o