Me an' her sister air goin' to be married befo' long."
Laz took hold of his hand. "Sim," he said, and his voice wavered and
tears gathered in the sympathetic eyes of Mrs. Mayfield--"Sim, I done
you wrong. I 'lowed you was a tryin' to cut me out an' I done you a
injestice, an' ef thar's any sort of punishment you want to put on me,
put it thar an' I'll take it an' won't say a word."
"Laz, old hoss, I've already put the punishment on you--I've tuck her
sister Ella, the flower an' the perfume of the family."
"They tell us," said Mrs. Mayfield, turning to her nephew, "that once
the sun went down and never more arose to illumine a day of gallantry.
They did not tell us the truth."
"No, auntie. These people are the unconscious survivors of the floral
contest at the poetic court of love."
"Ah, and they have even touched you, wayward boy. But come, shall we not
go into the house?"
"You folks go on an' I'll be there atter a while," replied Jasper.
"Thar's a feller over yander that's got a bay nag I want an' I mout
strike up a swop with him by the time the preacher gits to his second
an'--der--rer.
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