“‘Well, Reuben,’ says he, lookin’ up at me on the roost, ’you’re a good deal handsomer up there than you are on the ground.  I guess I’ll let you stay there for a while as a lesson to you.  Watch him, Prince.’  And off he walks.

“‘You everlasting clothes-pole,’ I yells after him, ’if it wa’n’t for that dog of yours I’d—­’

“He turns around kind of lazy and says he:  ’Oh, you’ve got no kick coming,’ he says.  ’I allow you to—­er—­ornament my tree, and ‘tain’t every hayseed I’d let do that.’

“And away he goes; and for an hour that had no less’n sixty thousand minutes in it I clung to that tree like a green apple, with Prince setting open-mouthed underneath waiting for me to get ripe and drop.

“Just as I was figgering that I was growing fast to the limb, I heard somebody calling my name.  I unglued my eyes from the dog and looked up, and there, looking over the fence that I’d tried so hard to reach, was Barbara Saunders, Cap’n Eben Saunders’ girl, who lived in the house next door to mine.

“Barbara was always a pretty girl, and that morning she looked prettier than ever, with her black hair blowing every which way and her black eyes snapping full of laugh.  Barbara Saunders in a white shirt-waist and an old, mended skirt could give ten lengths in a beauty race to any craft in silks and satins that ever I see, and beat ’em hull down at that.

“‘Why, Mr. Nickerson!’ she calls.  ’What are you doing up in that tree?’

“That was kind of a puzzler to answer offhand, and I don’t know what I’d have said if friend Allie hadn’t hove in sight just then and saved me the trouble.  He come strolling out of the woods with a cigarette in his mouth, and when he saw Barbara he stopped short and looked and looked at her.  And for a minute she looked at him, and the red come up in her cheeks like a sunrise.

“‘Beg pardon, I’m sure,’ says Allie, tossing away the cigarette.  ’May I ask if that—­er—­deep-sea gentleman in my tree is a friend of yours?’

“Barbara kind of laughed and dropped her eyes, and said why, yes, I was.

“‘By Jove! he’s luckier than I thought,’ says Allie, never taking his eyes from her face.  ’And what do they call him, please, when they want him to answer?’ That’s what he asked, though, mind you, he’d said he knew who I was when he first saw me.

“‘It’s Mr. Nickerson,’ says Barbara.  ’He lives in that house there.  The one this side of ours.’

“’Oh, a neighbor!  That’s different.  Awfully sorry, I’m sure.  Prince, come here.  Er—­Nickerson, for the lady’s sake we’ll call it off.  You may—­er—­vacate the perch.’

“I waited till he’d got a clove-hitch onto Prince.  He had to give him one or two welts over the head ’fore he could do it; the dog acted like he’d been cheated.  Then I pried myself loose from that blessed limb and shinned down to solid ground.  My! but I was b’iling inside.  ’Taint pleasant to be made a show afore folks, but ’twas the feller’s condescending what-excuse-you-got-for-living manners that riled me most.