Aunt Jane followed Joe upstairs, issuing caution and direction at every
step. "You can set outside now, Joe Pendleton," she said, "and see that
them hosses don't run away, and as soon as I get some of my things hung
up so's they won't wrinkle no more, I'll come out and pay you."
Joe obeyed, casting longing eyes at a bit of blue gingham that was
fluttering among the currant bushes in the garden. Mr. Ball, longing for
conversation with his kind, went out to the gate and stood looking up at
him, blinking in the bright sunlight. "Young feller," he said, "I reckon
that starboard hoss is my old mare. Where'd you get it?"
"Over to the Ridge," answered Joe, "of a feller named Johnson."
"Jest so--I reckon 't was his father I give Nellie to when I went away.
She was a frisky filly then--she don't look nothin' like that now."
"Mamie" turned, as if her former master's voice had stirred some old
memory. "She's got the evil eye," Mr. Ball continued. "You wanter be
keerful."
"She's all right, I guess," Joe replied.
"Young feller," said Mr. Ball earnestly, "do you chew terbacker?"
"Yep, but I ain't got no more. I'm on the last hunk."
Mr. Ball stroked his stained beard. "I useter," he said, reminiscently,
"afore I was merried."
Joe whistled idly, still watching for Hepsey.
"Young feller," said Mr. Ball, again, "there's a great deal of merryin'
and givin' in merriage in this here settlement, ain't there?"
"Not so much as there might be."
"Say, was your mother's name Elmiry Peavey?"
"Yes sir," Joe answered, much surprised.
"Then you be keerful," cautioned Mr. Ball. "Your hoss has got the
evil eye and your father, as might hev been, allers had a weak eye fer
women." Joe's face was a picture of blank astonishment. "I was engaged
to both of 'em," Mr. Ball explained, "each one a-keepin' of it
secret, and she--" here he pointed his thumb suggestively toward the
house--"she's got me."
"I'm going to be married myself," volunteered Joe, proudly.
"Merriage is a fleetin' show--I wouldn't, if I was in your place.
Merriage is a drag on a man's ambitions. I set out to own a schooner,
but I can't never do it now, on account of bein' merried. I had a good
start towards it--I had a little store all to myself, what was worth
three or four hundred dollars, in a sunny country where the women folks
had soft voices and pretty ankles and wasn't above passin' jokes with an
old feller to cheer 'im on 'is lonely way."
Mrs. Ball appeared at the upper window. "James," she called, "you'd
better come in and get your hat. Your bald spot will get all sunburned."