“‘No, friends,’ says the preacher sharp; ’I will promise to abide by you an’ embrace no openin’ to escape.  Since I’m here I will yoonite you-all as you wish; the more readily because I trusts that as man an’ wife you’ll prove a mootual restraint one upon the other; an’ also for that I deems you both in your single-footed capac’ty as a threat to the commoonity.  Fear not; prepare yourse’fs an’ I’ll bring you together in the happy bonds of matrimony at the drop of the hat.’

“‘You notes, Dan,’ says Texas Thompson, who’s off to one side with Dan Boggs, ’you notes he talks like his heart’s resentful.  Them culprits has r’iled him up; an’ now he allows that the short cut to play even is to marry ’em as they deserves.  Which if you-all knows that former wife of mine, Dan, you’ll appreciate what I says.’

“Even after the preacher sharp gives his p’role, Abby acts plenty doobious.  She ain’t shore it’s wise to throw him loose.  It’s Doc Peets who reasshores her.

“‘My dear young lady,’ says Peets, at the same time bowin’ to the ground, ’you may trust this maverick with me.  I’ll pledge my word to prodooce him at the moment when he’s called for to make these nuptials win.’

“‘Which I’m aheap obleeged to you, Mister,’ says Abby to Peets, sizing him up approvin’; ‘an’ now that I’m convinced thar’s no chance of my footure sufferin’ from any absenteeism on the part of this pastor, I reckons I better go over, like you-all hints, an’ take a look or two in the glass.  It ain’t goin’ to consoome a moment, however,—­this yere titivation I plans; an’ followin’ said improvements we-all better pull off this play some prompt.  My paw,—­old Ben Glegg,—­is on our trail not five miles behind; he’ll land yere in half a hour an’ I ain’t none convinced he won’t land shootin’.’  An’ with this bluff, an’ confidin’ the preacher sharp to Peets, Abby goes curvin’ over to the O.K.  Restauraw.

“However does this yere virgin look?  Son, I hes’tates to deescribe a lady onless the facts flows fav’rable for her.  Which I’ll take chances an’ lie a lot to say that any lady’s beautiful, if you-all will only give me so much as one good feacher to go on.  But I’m powerless in the instance of Abby.  That’s a blizzard effect to her face; an’ the best you can say is that if she don’t look lovely, at least she looks convincin’.  The gnurliest pineknot burns frequent the hottest, an’ you can take my word for it, this Abby girl has sperit.  Speakin’ of her appearance, personal, Missis Rucker—­who’s a fair jedge—­allows later to Enright that if Abby’s a kyard in a faro game, she’d play her to lose.

“‘Which she looks like a sick cat in the face, an’ a greyhoun’ in the waist,’ says Missis Rucker; ‘an’ I ain’t got mortal use for no sech spindlin’ trollops as this yere Abby girl is, nohow.’

“‘I don’t know,’ says Enright, shakin’ his head; ’I ain’t been enriched with much practical experience with women, but I reckons now it’s love that does it.  Whoever is that gent, Peets, who says, “love is blind”?  He knows his business, that sport does, an’ about calls the turn.’