“No, I didn’t,” answered Stonie with one of his rare smiles which made him so like Rose Mary that Everett’s heart glowed within him.  Stonie was, as a general thing, as grave as a judge, with something hauntingly, almost tragically serious in his austere young face, but his smiles when they came were flashes of the very divinity of youth and were a strange incarnation of the essence of Rose Mary’s cousinly loveliness.  “He was crying because he was by hisself and I bringed him along to wait till his mother came home.  He belongs some to us, ’cause he’s named for Uncle Tuck, and I oughter pester with him same as Tobe have to.  It’s fair to do my part.”

“Yes, General, you always do your part—­and always will, I think,” said Everett, as he looked down at the sturdy little chap so busy with his long strings, weaving them over and over slowly but carefully.  “A man’s part,” he added as two serious eyes were raised to his.

“In just a little while I’ll be a man and have Uncle Tucker and Aunt Viney and Aunt Amandy to be mine to keep care of always, Rose Mamie says,” answered Stonie in his most practical tone of voice as he began to see the end of the long strings draw into his weaving of the cracker.

“What about Rose Mamie herself?” asked Everett softly, his voice thrilling over the child’s name for the girl with reverent tenderness.

“When I get big enough to keep care of everything here I’m going to let Rose Mamie get a husband and a heap of children, like Mis’ Poteet—­but I’m a-going to make ’em behave theyselves better’n Tobe and Peggie and the rest of ’em do.  Aunt Viney says Mis’ Poteet spares the rod too much, but I’ll fix Rose Mamie’s children if they don’t mind her and me.”  The General’s mouth assumed its most commanding expression as he glanced down at the little Poteet sleeping beside him, unconscious of the fact that he was, in the future, to be the victim of a spared rod.

“Stonie,” asked Everett meekly, “have you chosen a husband for Rose Mary yet?”

“No,” answered Stonie as he wove in the last inch of string.  Then he paused and raised his eyes to Everett thoughtfully.  “It’s jest got to be the best man in the world, and I’m a-going to find him for her.  If I can’t I’ll keep care of her as good as I can myself.”

“General,” said Everett as he held the child’s eyes with a straight level compelling glance, “you are right—­she must have only the best.  And you ‘keep care’ until he comes.  I am going away to-night and I don’t know when I can come back, but you must always—­always ’keep care’ of her—­until the good man comes.  Will you?”

“I will,” answered the General positively.  “And if anybody of any kind bothers her or any of them I’ll knock the stuffins outen ’em, and Tobe’ll help.  But say,” he added, as if suddenly inspired by a brilliant idea, “couldn’t you look for him for me?  You’d know the good kind of a man and you could bring him here.  I would give you one of the spotted puppies to pay for the trouble,” and a hot wave engulfed Everett as the trustful friendly young eyes looked straight into his as Stonie made this extremely practical business proposition.