Arvilly’s heart yearned over the little girl that had never walked a step, and she loved her Pa, and the Pa loved her.

When she sot off from there a week later—­for she wuz bound to see the Fair, and quiltin’ had to be done, and clothin’ made up before marriage, no matter how much Cephus plead for haste—­he had got well enough to carry her ten milds to the cars, and she had come the rest of the way by rail; and she said, bein’ kinder sick of canvassin’ for that old book, she had tackled this new one, and wuz havin’ real good luck with it.

Wall, I wuz tickled enough for Arvilly, and I made up my mind then and there to give her a good linen table-cloth and a pair of new woollen sheets for a weddin’ present, and I subscribed for the “Precious Performances” on the spot.  I didn’t spoze that I should care much about readin’ “The Peaceful, Prosperous, and Precious Performances of Man”—­

But I bought it to help her along.  I knew that she would have to buy her “true so” (that is French, and means weddin’ clothes), and I thought every little helped; but she said that it wuz “A be-a-u-tiful book, so full of man’s noble deeds.”

“Wall,” sez I, “you know that I always told you that you run men too much.”

“But,” sez she, “I never drempt that men wuz such lovely creeters.”

“Oh, wall,” sez I, “as for that, men have their spells of loveliness, jest like female mortals, and their spells of actin’, like the old Harry.”

“Oh, no,” sez she; “they are a beautiful race of bein’s, almost perfect.”

“Wall,” sez I, “I hope your opinion will hold out.”  But I don’t spoze it will.  Six months of married life—­dry days, and wet ones, meals on time, and meals late, insufficient kindlin’ wood, washin’ days, and cleanin’ house will modify her transports; but I wouldn’t put no dampers onto her.

I merely sez, “Oh, yes, Arvilly, men are likely creeters more’n half the time, and considerable agreeable.”

“Agreeable!” sez she; “they’re almost divine.”  Arvilly always wuz most too ramptious in everything she undertook; she never loved to wander down the sweet, calm plains of Megumness, as I do.

And then I spoze Cephus made everything of her, and it wuz a real rarity to her to be made on and flattered up by a good-lookin’ man.

But well he might make of her—­he will be doin’ dretful well to git Arvilly; she’s a good worker and calculator, and her principles are like brass and iron for soundness; and she’s real good-lookin’, too, now—­looks ’leven years younger, or ten and a half, anyway.

But jest as Arvilly and I wuz a-withdrawin’ ourselves from each other, I sez,

“Arvilly, have you been to the Fair Sundays?”

“No,” sez she; “I didn’t lay out to, for I could go week days.  ’The Precious Performances’ yields money to spare to take me there week days, and you know that I only wanted it open for them that couldn’t git there any day but Sundays.  And also,” sez she honestly,