"'Job had two sinkin' spells thet Sunday afternoon,' she said, 'an' there war n't a drop of sperits in the house. I 'd used up the last of the elderberry wine,' she said, 'an' long 'bout three o'clock, I told Happy she 'd better run down to Seth White's an' get some brandy. She come back in a hurry an' said he had n't a drop of anything in the house, an' she 'd run down to the Crick House,--'t war n't more 'n a mile--an' get some. "'Thet's the last I see of her till half past eight,' said mother, 'an' when she did come she was all of a shake. She said she 'd hurried so, an' had ter wait at the tavern till they 'd sent down ter the next village. I thought 't was kinder queer,' mother used ter say, 'fer 't was the fust time I 'd ever known the Crick House to run dry of a Sunday. "'I did n't say nothin', but took the bottle an' started upstairs, leavin' her settin' there on the settle. Job was ramblin' some, an' Keziah had all she could do to keep him pacified.' "George and me,"--Cale interrupted his story to explain to us,--"had moved Job over inter the north chamber over the kitchen, fer 't was handier ter tend him there; an' all the cookin' was done in the woodshed. But you could hear every sound in the kitchen plain as could be. "'Job was jest fallin' asleep,' mother said, 'when I heard George come in through the woodshed an' shut the door with a bang thet pretty nigh raised the roof, an' started Job off again; an' I jest riz up out of my chair ter give them young folks a piece of my mind when, all of a suddin', I heard Happy cry out sharp, as if somebody was hurtin' her: "'"Oh, don't--don't!" "'Then I knew there was trouble brewin'. I held up my finger ter Keziah ter keep still, an' slippin' down the back stairs, thet led inter the kitchen, laid my eye to the crack in the door thet was part open. "'I could see Happy crouchin' on the settle with both hands over her face, an' George, standin' over her, had laid a pretty heavy hand on her shoulder. "'"Who was thet devil?" says he, in a hoarse voice like a crow's-caw. There was only a groan fer answer. "'"Tell me the truth," says he with a great shudderin' breath thet seemed ter go down clean ter his finger-tips, fer she shook like a leaf under the power of his hands. "Are you fit ter be my wife?" "'"Fit ter be your wife!" she shrieked, and with a bound thet shook his hand free of her an' left her standin' face ter face with him. Then, liftin' both her round white arms, she opened her little palms upwards jest as if', mother said, 'she was tryin' ter reach the horns of the altar, an' it sounded as if she was prayin': "As there 's my mother's God in heaven above me, I am clean an' fit ter be your wife, George Jackson, an' the wife of any honest man livin', an' if you 'll take me, knowin' what you do--an' you 've seen all there was of harm--I 'll marry you ter-morrow."