me, and I called her a divine boa constrictor. She didn't exactly know what I meant, but it tickled her all the same. Then I went over into the field to consult the old man about the time I'd have to wait, and when I mentioned day after tomorrow he snorted. 'Young fellow,' said he, 'I like your pushing ways, but I don't want to be crowded off the face of the earth. You wait awhile. I don't want folks to think that I am anxious to git rid of the best gal that ever lived.' He got next to me when he put it that way, and I agreed to wait a week or so. Yes, sir, it's all right, with the exception that I've got to wait. But I won't wait alone; I'll go out there every once in awhile and make her wait with me." Lyman caught hold of him and they stood near the window, laughing, but the laughter had more the sound of soft music than of two men in a merry mood. They sat down in the twilight, and their cigars glowed like the eyes of a beast, far apart. Warren's restlessness was worn away in part, and the next day and for days succeeding he went about his work, humming what he supposed to be a tune. Two weeks dragged along and the time for the marriage was approaching. Every day or so the young fellow would drive out into the country to argue with the old man. He had rented a cottage and had furnished it and he pleaded the crime of permitting it to stand there empty of the two hearts that yearned to inhabit it. The old man acknowledged the logic of the argument, but swore that he could not have it said that he was anxious to get rid of his girl; and Warren always agreed to this, at the time of its emphatic utterance, but when he had driven back to town, and put up his horse, a spirit of rebellion would arise and back he would go the next day to renew the contest. One night when Lyman went home he found old man Staggs in the sitting-room waiting for him. "I've got something to tell you," said the old man. Lyman's heart jumped. "Has she returned?" he asked. "Has who returned?" "Why, Mrs. McElwin and her daughter?" "Oh, I reckon not." "Then what did you want to tell me?" "I want to tell you that I won't drink any more." "You told me that some time ago." "Yes, but under different circumstances. When I told you, I was sick and wouldn't have touched a drop if a barrel full had been under my nose; but I tell you now when I am well. Do you know the reason why I am so strong in the faith now? Of course you don't, and that is what I am going to tell you. I was out in the stable this evening and I found a bottle of liquor. Blast me if I hadn't been wanting it all day. But what did I do? I went out and threw the bottle--and the liquor--as far as I could send it, and I heard it squash in the street. And now I want to ask you if that wasn't nerve."