"Hello, old graybeard!" This was Caleb's salutation. "I jilted the cobbler's Mary for your Melviny. A mess of perdition she is. You have the honor of burying my mother; I would have the pleasure of marrying your daughter. 'Tis a fair exchange. Speak the word; the magistrate is waiting for his fee. You won't? Your beard is a foot long." "I go to dig your mother's grave." "I detain you to pleasure my mother's son." "She must be buried." "I must be married." "Oh! Oh! Oh!" "Speak the word." "My beard is being wasted." "Speak the word, or I'll pull out another handful." "Y-e-e-s," stammered Noah. Caleb stroked what beard was left, evened it up with his penknife, and said: "Go! You are adorned for your task." What Noah felt and thought while digging Patsy's grave would make a serious, instructive volume. A like record of Caleb and Melviny, as they stood before the magistrate, would show the brute in man, the folly in woman. So long as woman is sure she has mastered man, so long is man sure to degrade woman. 'Tis the equation of the fall. The rib that gave woman life ever waits to give her temptation and death. Caleb had been away from Melviny six months when their child was born. Fancy a man, dirty, ragged, and lousy, sitting beside a post. Notice the convenience of the post. Look well at the grin that is indicative of a bite; forget not the smile that means one intruder less. Why those dice? He shakes them in his hand, throws them out, and says seven. Any money at stake? No! Any fellow-players? No! See the point? Look closely! When he grins he shakes the dice. Know you what that means? There is a bite. When he smiles he throws out the dice and says seven. Understand that? The post and a movement of his back have done the work, and there is one intruder less. He is actually gambling with the lice on his back. A fellow-gambler comes up and says: "Caleb, you have an heir in your family. Happy dog you should be." "Let's celebrate it with a game," says Caleb. He throws down a ten-dollar bill; the other lays down five silver dollars. Caleb shakes the dice, grins fiercely, throws them out, smiles a double smile, and says seven twice. This means a double victory. More lice have been killed, and five dollars are won. "Five more! Will you have it?" asks Caleb. "I'm a gambling man and never flinch," says the other. He lays down five more silver dollars. Caleb rises and uses the post vigorously. His face is a solid grin. The dice are shaken and leap from his hand. The broad grin relaxes into a little smile that spreads so as to almost hide his nose. His left hand assists the post, while with the right he picks up the silver dollars. "A gambling man are you?" twits Caleb. "Yes," nods the other. "Then a generous man am I," continues Caleb. "Take the ten-dollar bill and remember you have met Caleb."