"I have two."
He meant old wounds, foretellers of weather whims.
"Are we going to have rain, Foster?"
"Don't know--I feel fair weather."
"My instrument may be a little acuter than yours. Mine says rain."
The Judge looked up. "Rain by all means," said he; and then after a time
the Captain remarked:
"Doesn't appear that you are going to have much of a vacation, Judge."
"That's a fact, and to one I had been looking forward. I am tired of
this everlasting hum-drum, listening to false statements and prying into
the criminal weaknesses of other men. The Lord knows that we have
weaknesses enough of our own. But I don't see any immediate relief. The
criminal docket precludes any adjournment. And I have a civil case under
advisement. My son Tom is married. And so is my sister."
"What!" exclaimed the Marshal. "When did all this occur?"
From his pocket the Judge took a letter. "Tom and my sister went up into
the mountains and--this letter tells all I know about it, and it is
little enough:
'Dear Father: I have married a mountain girl and
auntie has married her cousin, a preacher, but a
good fellow all the same.
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