“I feel ‘s if a child could play with me,” he remarked.  “What’s comin’ now, Polly?”

“The’s a mince pie, an’ Injun puddin’ with maple sugar an’ cream, an’ ice cream,” she replied.

“Mercy on us!” he exclaimed.  “I guess I’ll have to go an’ jump up an’ down on the verandy.  How do you feel, John?  I s’pose you got so used to them things at the Eagle ’t you won’t have no stomach fer ’em, eh?  Wa’al, fetch ’em along.  May ’s well die fer the ole sheep ’s the lamb, but, Polly Bixbee, if you’ve got designs on my life, I may ’s well tell ye right now ’t I’ve left all my prop’ty to the Institution fer Disappinted Hoss Swappers.”

“That’s putty near next o’ kin, ain’t it?” was the unexpected rejoinder of the injured Polly.

“Wa’al, scat my ——!” exclaimed David, hugely amused, “if Polly Bixbee hain’t made a joke!  You’ll git yourself into the almanic, Polly, fust thing you know.”  Sairy brought in the pie and then the pudding.

“John,” said David, “if you’ve got a pencil an’ a piece o’ paper handy I’d like to have ye take down a few of my last words ’fore we proceed to the pie an’ puddin’ bus’nis.  Any more ‘hoss-redish’ in that bottle?” holding out his glass.  “Hi! hi! that’s enough.  You take the rest on’t,” which John did, nothing loath.

David ate his pie in silence, but before he made up his mind to attack the pudding, which was his favorite confection, he gave an audible chuckle, which elicited Mrs. Bixbee’s notice.

“What you gigglin’ ’bout now?” she asked.

David laughed.  “I was thinkin’ of somethin’ I heard up to Purse’s last night,” he said as he covered his pudding with the thick cream sauce.  “Amri Shapless has ben gittin’ married.”

“Wa’al, I declare!” she exclaimed.  “That ole shack!  Who in creation could he git to take him?”

“Lize Annis is the lucky woman,” replied David with a grin.

“Wa’al, if that don’t beat all!” said Mrs. Bixbee, throwing up her hands, and even from Mrs. Cullom was drawn a “Well, I never!”

“Fact,” said David, “they was married yestidy forenoon.  Squire Parker done the job.  Dominie White wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with it!”

“Squire Parker ’d ortter be ’shamed of himself,” said Mrs. Bixbee indignantly.

“Don’t you think that trew love had ought to be allowed to take its course?” asked David with an air of sentiment.

“I think the squire’d ortter be ’shamed of himself,” she reiterated.  “S’pose them two old skinamulinks was to go an’ have children?”

“Polly, you make me blush,” protested her brother.  “Hain’t you got no respect fer the holy institution of matrimuny?—­and—­at cet’ry?” he added, wiping his whole face with his napkin.

“Much as you hev, I reckon,” she retorted.  “Of all the amazin’ things in this world, the amazinist to me is the kind of people that gits married to each other in gen’ral; but this here performence beats ev’rything holler.”