“I thought you must be making the cake specially on his account,” said Alison with a little laugh. Louisa cast her a scornful glance. “You know better than that. He thinks, and they all think, I’m plum crazy to want anything but corn-bread and fry. I tell dad if I tend to the chickens, and if he can’t buy me a little flour and sugar once in a while I’ll go where I can get it easier. I ain’t seen any decent butter sence I came down here except what I make myself. I never did see people so easy pleased.” “I’m sure we never get any good butter any more,” complained Alison. “Christine was saying the other day that we’d have to learn to make it if you would show us how. Nobody about here knows what real butter is.” “I’ll show you and welcome. Let’s go outside; it’s getting hot as Tophet in this kitchen.” They established themselves comfortably on a log by the door, and Alison immediately began her questioning. “Why did you say I was specially sent to you to-day?” “Oh, things ain’t going the way I like.” “Better come back to us.” “Wish I could, but somehow I’ve got the feeling that I ought to stick to dad right or wrong.” “I don’t think so at all, if you are not happy here.” “He’s all I’ve got and I’m all he’s got. He’s told me a lot of things about old days, same that mother used to talk about, and I know he belongs to me all right, though he does seem powerful anxious to get me married.” “He does?” “Yes, and what’s more he wants to pick out my man for me. Says I’ve got to take either Pike or old Jabe Manypenny.” “I can understand why he might want you to marry old Jabez Manypenny, for he’s rich, but I can’t see why he should pick out Pike when he’s about the most disagreeable, glum looking wretch that I ever saw. I can’t bear him. I’d rather you’d marry Jabez, old as he is. Goodness knows there are enough hard characters down here in Texas, and sometimes I think every other man must be an escaped criminal, but of them all I do think Pike is about the worst. I can’t imagine what your father sees in him.” “That’s just what I can’t see. They’re mighty thick, and dad always treats him as polite as a lord, like he wanted to keep on the good side of him. Says I mustn’t judge by appearances, and if I keer anything fer him I’ll be a dutiful darter and marry to suit him.” “Well I must say I don’t envy you a father, if that’s the way they do. I’m glad I’ve no one to bother me about such things.” “How about that young feller I hear comes shinin’ ’round you, that Blythe Van Dorn?” “Oh, he’s only a boy. He has said some soft things to me, but I just laugh at him. I did have a proposal, though, my first, and you’ll never guess who it was.” She laughed gleefully. “Not Van Dorn?” “No.” “Bud?” “Bud, indeed. No, of course not. I wouldn’t marry a one-legged man, would you?” “I don’t know. It would depend upon how he lost his leg. Suppose your brother John came home with but one leg, wouldn’t you think him still good enough for any girl?”