“Meliss', kin I wait on you at shuckin'?” “Dick's jest this minute axed me,” she stammered, beginning to blush anew. “Well, he ain't axed to set on both sides uv you, I reckon. You'd be a uncommon quar pusson ef the' wuz jest one side to you. What's to keep me frum settin' on tother side frum Dick?” To this the farmer's daughter made no reply, and as the guests were now starting to the barnyard she was escorted between the two rivals to the great coneshaped heap of unhusked corn gleaming in the pale moonlight. “All keep yore feet an' form a ring round the pile!” called out Bagley, so as to be overheard above the sound of their voices. “The' ain't no r'al fun 'thout everything is conducted fa'r and squar'. Now” (as all the merrymakers stood hand in hand round the corn heap, Dick with one of Melissa's hands in his tight clasp and his rival with the other)--“now, all march round an' somebody start 'King William Wuz King James' Son,' an' when I tell you to halt set down right whar' you are. I'm a-doin' this 'kase at Wade's last week some fellers hid red yeers o' corn nigh the'r places an' wuz etarnally a-kissin' o' the gals, which ain't fa'r nur decent. The rule on this occasion shall be as common, in regard to the fust feller that finds a red yeer o'corn bein' 'lowed to kiss any gal he likes, but atter that one time--understand everybody--atter that no bussin' kin take place, red yeer ur no red yeer. I advocate moderation in all things, especially whar' a man an' woman's mouth is con-sarned.” While the musical tones of the familiar song were rising, and the straw beneath the feet of the human chain was rustling, Bagley called aloud the word: “Halt!” and all sat down immediately and went to work with a will. Song after song was sung. The hard, pearly silk-tipped ears of corn flew through the air and rained into the crib near at hand, and billows of husks rolled up behind the eager workers and were raked away by negroes who were not permitted to take part in the sport. “Here's a red un, by hunky!” yelled out a sunburnt, downy-faced youth, standing up and holding aloft a small ear of blood-red corn. “Hold on thar!” shouted Bagley in commanding tones. “The rules must be enforced to the letter. Jim Lash, ef yore yeer measures full six inches ye're the lucky man, but ef it falls short o' that size its a nubbin an' don't count.” An eager group encircled the young man, but soon a loud laugh rose and they all fell back into their places, for the ear had proved to be only five inches in length.