“I'm actually afraid I'm losing my mind,” she said. “I am acting exactly as Sister Martha did.” XVIII IT was a warm morning on the first day of June. Pole Baker lay on the thick grass, near the door of the court-house, talking to Jim Carden, a little shoemaker from Darley. “Didn't Nelson Floyd go in the court-house jest now?” Pole asked. “Yes,” said the shoemaker, in his high voice; “him an' Colonel Price was settin' here fer half an' hour 'fore you come, talkin' about a trade. Price is tryin' to sell 'im his plantation, an' that big house completely furnished. I'd rather see Floyd's eyes when he's on a trade than anything I ever looked at. They shine like twin stars. But I don't believe they'll trade. They are too far apart.” “This section is chock full o' keen men, from the highest to the lowest,” remarked Pole. “Old settlers say that a long time ago seven Jews settled here, intendin' to git rich, an' that these mountain men got all they had, an' the Jews literally starved to death. Thar hain't been one in the county since.” “Our folks certainly are hard to down,” said Carden. “Do you know that long, slim chap in front o' Floyd's store? That's one o' the Bowen boys, from Gilmer--I mean the feller at the covered wagon.” “Know 'im? I reckon I do,” Pole laughed, “That's Alf Bowen. I had a round with 'im one day. It was in the fall o' the year, an' they was so busy at Mayhew & Floyd's that they pulled me into service. I'm a purty good salesman when I'm about half loaded. Well, Alf come in leadin' his little gal by the hand, an' said he wanted to fit 'er out in a cloak. Joe Peters hung to 'im fer half an' hour, but everything he'd show the feller was too high, or not good enough, an Joe switched 'im off on me. Joe was afeard ef the skunk went out that some more that was with 'im would follow, an' _they_ was buyin' a little, now an' then. Well, do you know, Jim, I made up my mind I'd sell that feller a cloak ef I had to do it below cost an' make up the difference myself. Old Uncle Abner Daniel was thar settin' on a nail-keg, a-spittin' an' a-chawin' an' pokin' fun at me. As I was passin' 'im he cocked his eye up an' said, said he: 'Pole, I'll bet you a segar you cayn't sell 'im.' 'Done,' said I. 'I'll go you,' an' I set to work in earnest. Alf had sorter intimated that six dollars was his cloak-limit, an' I drawed Joe Peters round behind a stack o' boxes, an' axed 'im ef we had anything as low as that. Joe said no, we didn't, but, said he, 'sometimes when we git short, we run into Glenn's store next door an' take out an' article on trial, an' ef we sell it, we git it at cost.' Well, I happened to know that Glenn had some cloaks in, so I went back to my customer an' told 'im that we had jest got in a box o' cloaks the day before, but they was in the cellar unopened, an' ef he'd wait a minute, I'd bust the box an' see ef thar was any low-priced cloaks in the lot. Bowen's eyes sorter danced, an' he said he had plenty o' time.