"Ho! ho!" he laughed. "Didn't I do it slick? Ain't nothin' green in _my_ eye, I guess." In an intense and pleasurable abstraction he finished the cookies and the milk. Then he yelled: "Hey! Merry--Merry Etty!" "Whadda ye want?" sang the girl from the window, her face still rosy with confusion. "Come out here and git these things." The girl shook her head, with a laugh. "Come out an' git 'm, 'r by jingo I'll throw 'em at ye! Come on, now!" The girl looked at the huge, handsome fellow, the sun falling on his golden hair and beard, and came slowly out to him--came creeping along with her hand outstretched for the plate which Lime, with a laugh in his sunny blue eyes, extended at the full length of his bare arm. The girl made a snatch at it, but his left hand caught her by the wrist, and away went cup and plate as he drew her to him and kissed her in spite of her struggles. "My! ain't you strong!" she said, half-ruefully and half-admiringly, as she shrugged her shoulders. "If you'd use a little more o' _that_ choppin' wood, Dad wouldn't 'a' lost s' much money by yeh." Lime grew grave. "There's the hog in the fence, Merry; what's yer dad goin' t' say"---- "About what?" "About our gitt'n' married this spring." "I guess you'd better find out what _I'm_ a-goin' t' say, Lime Gilman, 'fore you pitch into Dad." "I _know_ what you're a-goin' t' say." "No, y' don't." "Yes, but I _do_, though." "Well, ask me, and see, if you think you're so smart. Jest as like 's not, you'll slip up." "All right; here goes. Marietty Bacon, ain't you an' Lime Gilman goin' t' be married?" "No, sir, we ain't," laughed the girl, snatching up the plate and darting away to the house, where she struck up "Weevily Wheat," and went busily on about her cooking. Lime threw a kiss at her, and fell to work on his log with startling energy. Lyman looked forward to his interview with the old man with as much trepidation as he had ever known, though commonly he had little fear of anything--but a girl. Marietta was not only the old man's only child, his housekeeper, his wife having at last succumbed to the ferocious toil of the farm. It was reasonable to suppose, therefore, that he would surrender his claim on the girl reluctantly. Rough as he was, he loved Marietta strongly, and would find it exceedingly hard to get along without her.