It’s no use,—­he answered.—­I look at them girls and feel as the fellah did when he missed catchin’ the trout.—­’To’od ‘a’ cost more butter to cook him ‘n’ he’s worth,—­says the fellah.—­Takes a whole piece o’ goods to cover a girl up now-a-days.  I’d as lief undertake to keep a span of elephants,—­and take an ostrich to board, too,—­as to marry one of ’em.  What’s the use?  Clerks and counter-jumpers ain’t anything.  Sparragrass and green peas a’n’t for them,—­not while they’re young and tender.  Hossback-ridin’ a’n’t for them,—­except once a year, on Fast-day.  And marryin’ a’n’t for them.  Sometimes a fellah feels lonely, and would like to have a nice young woman, to tell her how lonely he feels.  And sometimes a fellah,—­here the young man John looked very confidential, and, perhaps, as if a little ashamed of his weakness,—­sometimes a fellah would like to have one o’ them small young ones to trot on his knee and push about in a little wagon,—­a kind of a little Johnny, you know;—­it’s odd enough, but, it seems to me, nobody can afford them little articles, except the folks that are so rich they can buy everything, and the folks that are so poor they don’t want anything.  It makes nice boys of us young fellahs, no doubt!  And it’s pleasant to see fine young girls sittin’, like shopkeepers behind their goods, waitin’, and waitin’, and waitin’, ‘n’ no customers,—­and the men lingerin’ round and lookin’ at the goods, like folks that want to be customers, but have n’t the money!

Do you think the deformed gentleman means to make love to Iris?—­I said.

What!  Little Boston ask that girl to marry him!  Well, now, that’s cumin’ of it a little too strong.  Yes, I guess she will marry him and carry him round in a basket, like a lame bantam:  Look here!—­he said, mysteriously;—­one of the boarders swears there’s a woman comes to see him, and that he has heard her singin’ and screechin’.  I should like to know what he’s about in that den of his.  He lays low ‘n’ keeps dark,—­and, I tell you, there’s a good many of the boarders would like to get into his chamber, but he don’t seem to want ’em.  Biddy could tell somethin’ about what she’s seen when she ’s been to put his room to rights.  She’s a Paddy ‘n’ a fool, but she knows enough to keep her tongue still.  All I know is, I saw her crossin’ herself one day when she came out of that room.  She looked pale enough, ‘n’ I heard her mutterin’ somethin’ or other about the Blessed Virgin.  If it had n’t been for the double doors to that chamber of his, I’d have had a squint inside before this; but, somehow or other, it never seems to happen that they’re both open at once.

What do you think he employs himself about? said I.

The young man John winked.

I waited patiently for the thought, of which this wink was the blossom, to come to fruit in words.

I don’t believe in witches,—­said the young man John.

Nor I.