He looked at her steadily for an instant, then he said: “Sally, I want you to do me a special favor.” “What is it, Pole?” Her voice was full of wonder. “Sally, now don't laugh at me, but I want you to go put on a piece o' red ribbon, an' let yore hair hang down yore back loose like you used to. Fix it that away an' then come in to the fire.” “Pole, yo're foolish!” Mrs. Baker was really pleased, and yet she saw no reason for his whim. “You do as I ax you, an' don't be long about it, nuther.” He turned back into the firelight, and, watching him cautiously from the adjoining room, Mrs. Baker saw him straightening out his shirt and brushing his coarse hair. Then, to her further surprise, she saw him take down his best coat from its peg on the wall and put it on. This was followed by a dusting of his rough shoes with a soiled, red handkerchief. In great wonder, Sally, with her hair loose on her shoulders, looked into the room. “You ain't in earnest about that--that red ribbon, are you, Pole?” she faltered. “Yes, I am,” he answered, without lifting his eyes from the fire. “I mean exactly what I say.” “All right, then, I'll do it, but I don't see a bit o' sense in it,” she retorted. “It's about our bedtime, an' I know in reason that we ain't a-goin' nowhar at this time o' night an' leave the childem by the'r-selves.” Still Pole did not look up. “You go an' do as I tell you,” he repeated, a flush of growing embarrassment on his face. Presently Mrs. Baker came in, even redder and more confused than he. “Pole, what in the name o' common-sense--” But he was gallantly placing a chair for her in front of the fire near his own. “Take a seat,” he said, bowing and motioning downward with his hands. “When you stood in the door jest then, lookin' fer all the world like you did away back in our courtin'-day, I come as nigh as peas callin' you 'Miss Sally.' Gee whiz! It's Mrs. Baker now--ain't it? How quar that sounds when a body looks back!” “Pole,” she asked, as she sat down wonderingly, “are you goin' some'rs at this time o' night?” “No, it ain't that,” he said, awkwardly--“it ain't that, Sally. It ain't meetin', nor singin'-school, nor a moonlight buggy-ride.'Tain't none o' them old, old things.” Pole crossed his long legs and leaned back in his chair. “I know in reason that you are a-goin' to laugh at me, an' say I'm plumb crazy, but it's this away, Sally: some'n's jest happened that's set me to thinkin', an' it occurred to me that I wasn't half thankful enough to the Almighty fer all His many blessin's, an'--” “Pole”--Mrs. Baker was misled as to his meaning--“somebody's been talkin' religion to you. You want to begin holdin' family prayer ag'in, I reckon. Now, looky' here, ef you do, I want you to keep it up. I feel wuss ever'time you start in an' break off.”