“I reckon when the Senator hits Sweetbriar again he’ll think he’s stepped into a nest of yellar jackets and it’ll be a case of run or swell up and bust,” answered Mr. Crabtree as he put up the two boxes of baking-powder for the spouse of the poet, who stood beside his wife in the door of the store.

“Well,” said Mr. Rucker in his long drawl as he dropped himself over the corner of the counter, “looks like the Honorable Gid kinder fooled along and let Cupid shed a feather on him and then along come somebody trying to pick his posey for him and in course it het him up.  You all ’pear to forget that old saying that it’s all’s a fair fight in love and war.”

“Yes, fight; that’s the word!  Take off his coat, strap his galluses tight, spit on his hands and fight for his girl, not trade for her like hogs,” was the bomb of sentiment that young Bob exploded, much to the amazement of the gathering of the Sweetbriar clan in the store.  Young Bob’s devotion to Rose Mary, admiration for Everett and own tender state of heart had made him become articulate with a vengeance for this once and he spat his words out with a vehemence that made a decided impression on his audience.

“That are the right way to talk, Bob Nickols,” said Mrs. Rucker, bestowing a glance of approval upon the fierce young Corydon, followed by one of scorn cast in the direction of the extenuating-circumstances pleading Mr. Rucker.  “A man’s heart ain’t much use to a woman if the muscles of his arms git string-halt when he oughter fight for her.  Come a dispute the man that knocks down would keep me, not the buyer,” and this time the glance was delivered with a still greater accent.

“Shoo, honey, you’d settle any ruckus about you ’fore it got going by a kinder cold-word dash and pass-along,” answered the poet propitiatingly and admiringly.  “But I was jest a-wondering why Mr. Alloway and Miss Rose Mary was so—­”

“Tain’t for nobody to be a-wondering over what they feels and does,” exclaimed Mrs. Rucker defensively before the query was half uttered.  “They’ve been hurt deep with some kind of insult and all we have got to do is to take notice of the trouble and git to work to helping ’em all we can.  Mr. Tucker ain’t said a word to nobody about it, nor have Rose Mary, but they are a-getting ready to move the last of the week, and I don’t know where to.  I jest begged Rose Mary to let me have Miss Viney and Miss Amandy.  I could move out the melojion into the kitchen and give ’em the parlor, and welcome, too.  Mis’ Poteet she put in and asked for Stonie to bed down on the pallet in the front hall with Tobe and Billy and Sammie, and I was a-going on to plan as how Mr. Tucker and Mr. Crabtree would stay together here, and I knew Mis’ Plunkett would admire to have Rose Mary herself, but just then she sudden put her head down on my knee, her pretty arms around me, and held on tight without a tear, while I couldn’t do nothing but rock back and forth.  Then Mis’ Poteet she cried the top of Shoofly’s head so soaking wet it give her a sneeze, and we all had to laugh.  But she never answered me what they was a-going to do, and you know, Cal Rucker, I ain’t slept nights thinking about ’em, and where they’ll move, have I?”