"Oh, yea! Amos. What in the world--I don't want to live no place else."
"Well, now, wait once, Millie. I got a plan all fixed up, something I
wished long a'ready I could do, only I hated to bust up the farm for my
sister. Millie--ach, don't you know what I mean? Let's me and you get
married!"
Millie drew her heavy blanket shawl closer around her and pulled her
black woolen cap farther over her forehead, then she turned and looked
at Amos, but his face was in shadow; the feeble oil lamp of the market
wagon sent scant light inside.
"Now, Amos, you say that just because you take pity for me and want to
fix a home for me, ain't?"
"Ach, yammer, no!" came the vehement reply. "I liked you long a'ready,
Millie, and used to think still, 'There's a girl I'd like to marry!'"
"Why, Amos," came the happy answer, "and I liked you, too, long
a'ready! I used to think still to myself, 'I don't guess I'll ever get
married but if I do I'd like a man like Amos.'"
Then Uncle Amos suddenly demonstrated his skill at driving one-handed
and something more than the blanket-shawl was around Millie's
shoulders.
"Ach, my," she said after a while, "to think of it--me, a hired girl,
to get a nice, good man like you for husband!"
"And me, a fat dopple of a farmer to get a girl like you! I'll be good
to you, Millie, honest! You just see once if I won't! You needn't work
so hard no more. I'll buy the farm off my sister and we'll sell some of
the land and stop this goin' to market. It's too hard work. We can take
it easier; we're both gettin' old, ain't, Millie?" He leaned over and
kissed her again.
"You know," he said blissfully, "I used to think still this here
kissin' business is all soft mush, but--why--I think it's all right.
Don't you?"
"Ach," she laughed as she pushed his face away gently. "They say still
there ain't no fools like old ones. I guess we're some."
"All right, we don't care, long as we like it. Here," he spoke to the
horse, "giddap with you! Abody'd think you was restin' 'stead of goin'
to market. We'll be late for sure this morning." His mittened hands
flapped the reins and the horse quickened his steps.
"Ha, ha," the man laughed, "I know what ails old Bill! The kissin'
scared him. He never heard none before in this market wagon. No wonder
he stands still. Here's another for good measure."
"Ach, Amos, I think that's often enough now! Anyhow for this morning
once."
"Ha, ha," he laughed. "Millie, you're all right! That's what you are!"