Jerry, glancing toward the house, called out a salutation to Alethea, and then at long range entered upon a colloquy with Mrs. Purvine touching the lack of seed. “Whar’s that thar t’other bag o’ seed-corn?” he demanded. “Waal, I ain’t got none!” cried out Mrs. Purvine peremptorily. “I mus’ hev made a mistake, and fedded that thar bag o’ special an’ percise fine seed-corn ter the chickens,—I wish they war every one fried. I disremember now what I done, an’ what I done it fur. Ye jes’ gear up Bluff in the wagin an’ go ter mill, an’ see ef ye can’t git some thar.” “Laws-a-massy!” objected Jerry, “’tain’t no use ter make Bluff go. I kin git thar an back quicker an’ easier ’thout him ’n with him.” “Ye do ez ye air bid,” said Mrs. Purvine; and while Jerry stared she presently explained, as she sawed away on the draw-strings of a bag, “I want ye ter take Lethe along ter the post-office, ter see ef thar’s enny letter fur me.” Now, Mrs. Purvine had never written nor received a letter in her life; in fact, would not have understood the functions of a post-office, had it not been for her husband’s incumbency some years ago. Nevertheless, in common with half the country-side, whenever she thought of it she gravely demanded if there were a missive for her, and was gravely answered in the negative, and went her way well content. Both young people understood her ruse well enough,—to throw them together, in the hope that propinquity might do a little match-making. Since Mink’s long sentence of imprisonment had been pronounced upon him, she felt that there was no longer fear of rivalry from that quarter, as the Supreme Court would hardly reverse so plain and just a judgment. And now, she thought, is Jerry’s golden opportunity. However, she elaborately justified the expedition upon the basis of convenience. “Ye _could_ fetch the letter an’ the corn too,” she observed, in a cogitating manner; “but then, goin’ ter mill, ye’d be apt ter git meal sprinkled onto it. I reckon I’d better send Lethe too. Ye kin leave her at the post-office till ye go ter mill.” This verisimilitude imposed even upon Alethea. “Who air ye expectin’ a letter from, aunt Dely?” said the girl. Mrs. Purvine was equal to the occasion. “I ’lowed,” she said, with swift inspiration, “ez some o’ them folks ez we-uns bided with down thar in Shaftesville mought take up a notion ter write ter us.” Alethea thought this not unlikely, and set out with Jerry with some interest, fully prepared to preserve the precious letter from any contact with meal.