“You aren’t going to pick a wife for me, too?” he said, with a rueful smile.

“Dunno but I might,” said Scattergood.  “Got any preferences as to weight and color?”

“My only preference is to have them all—­a long way off,” said the young minister.

“Some day you’ll have opposite leanin’s.  There’ll be a girl you’ll want to snuggle right clost to....  G’-by, Parson, I’ll keep my eyes open for you.”

A few days later consignments of hardware began to arrive, and Scattergood, sitting on the piazza of his store, watched them carried with much ostentation into the stores of his rivals.  It was noticed that he scarcely had his shoes on during this week and that he even walked to the post office barefooted, squirming his delighted toes into the warm sand with apparent enjoyment.  Immediately Locker and Kettleman and Lumley and the rest made it known to Coldriver and environs that they were dealing in hardware and not for profit, but merely as a convenience to their patrons.  They emphasized the fact that they would sell hardware at cost, and exhibited prices which Scattergood studied and saw that he could not meet.

The town watched the affair, expecting much of Scattergood, but he made no move.  Apparently he was contented to sit on his piazza and see customers passing him by for the alluring bargains offered beyond.  Coldriver was disappointed in Scattergood, and it said so, much as a disgruntled critic will speak of an actor who has made a flat failure in a favorite piece.

On a certain afternoon Scattergood was seen to accost Selina Pettybone, who paused, and drew nearer, showing signs of regret and interest.

“Seliny,” said Scattergood, “you’re one of them Daughters of Dorcas, or half sisters of Mehitable, or somethin’ religious and charitable, hain’t you?”

“Yes,” said Selina, with a smile.

“What does sich folks do when they git to hear of a case of misery and distress?”

“They do what they can, Mr. Baines,” said Selina.

“Um!...  If you heard Xenophon Banks was took sick of a busted leg, and his wife was dead these two year, and a ‘leven-year-old girl was tryin’ to nuss her pa and look after four more, what d’ye calc’late you’d calc’late?”

“I’d calculate,” said Selina, “that I ought to go out there to the farm and see about it at once.”

“Usin’ your buggy or mine?”

“Mine, thank you.”

“G’-by, Selina.”

“G’-by, Mr. Baines,” she said, and laughed.

Scattergood watched her disappear in the direction of her home and then got up leisurely and ambled toward the Congregational parsonage, in which young Jason Hooper lived in solitary dignity.  Mr. Hooper was in his study.

“Howdy, Parson?” said Scattergood.

“How do you do, Mr. Baines?”

“Bible say anythin’ regardin’ visitin’ the sick an’ ministerin’ to the oppressed?”

“A great deal, Mr. Baines.”