One afternoon, Flush indiscreetly indulged in some triumphant and rather slighting remarks about the little teacher. Within fifteen minutes, Flush’s final earthly home had been excavated, and an amateur undertaker was making his coffin. An untimely proposal by a good-looking young Mexican, And his prompt rejection, left the race between Toledo and a Frenchman named Lecomte. It also left Miss Brown considerably frightened, for until now she had imagined nothing more serious than the rude admiration which had so delighted her at first. But now, who knew but some one else would be ridiculous? Poor little Miss Brown suffered acutely at the thought of giving pain, and determined to be more demure than ever. But alas! even her agitation seemed to make her more charming to her two remaining lovers. Had the boys at the saloon comprehended in the least the cause of Miss Brown’s uneasiness, they would have promptly put both Lecomte and Toledo out of the camp, or out of the world. But to their good-natured, conceited minds it meant only that she was confused, and unable to decide, and unlimited betting was done, to be settled upon the retirement of either of the contestants. And while patriotic feeling influenced the odds rather in Toledo’s favor, it was fairly admitted that the Frenchman was a formidable rival. To all the grace of manner, and the knowledge of women that seems to run in Gallic blood, he was a man of tolerable education and excellent taste. Besides, Miss Brown was so totally different from French women, that every development of her character afforded him an entirely new sensation, and doubled his devotion. Toledo stood his ground manfully, though the boys considered it a very bad sign when he stopped drinking, and spent hours in pacing the ground in front of his hut, with his hands behind him, and his eyes fixed on the ground. Finally, when he was seen one day to throw away his faithful old pipe, heavy betters hastened to “hedge” as well as they might. Besides, as one of the boys truthfully observed, “He couldn’t begin to wag a jaw along with that Frenchman.” But, like many other young men, he could talk quite eloquently with his eyes, and as the language of the eyes is always direct, and purely grammatical, Miss Brown understood everything they said, and, to her great horror, once or twice barely escaped talking back. The poor little teacher was about to make the whole matter a subject of special prayer, when a knock at the door startled her. She answered it, and beheld the homely features of the judge. “I just come in to talk a little matter that’s been botherin’ me some time. Ye’ll pardon me ef I talk a little plain?” said he. “Certainly,” replied the teacher, wondering if he, too, had joined her persecutors. “Thank ye,” said the judge, looking relieved. “It’s all right. I’ve got darters to hum ez big ez you be, an’ I want to talk to yer ez ef yer was one uv ’em.”