And then we had some more words--not many, but jest a few. We worship each other, and it is known to be so, all over Jonesville, and Loontown, and Zoar. And I spozed by that time that Chicago wuz a-beginnin' to wake up to the truth of how much store we sot by each other. But the fairest spring day is liable to have its little spirts of rain, and they only make the air sweeter and more refreshin'. Wall, from that time, every now and then--not enough to abuse his horsepitality, but enough to let him know that we appreciated his goodness--when our dry oven become heated up beyend what we could seem to bear, we went into that cool, delightful room agin, and agin I feasted my eyes on the lovely pictures on the wall; most of all on that beautiful sunset scene down by the laughin' stream. And as hot and beat out as I might be, I would always find that pretty girl a-standin', cool and fresh, and dretful pretty, by the old bar post, with her orburn hair pushed back from her flushed cheeks, and a look in her deep brown eyes, and on her exquisite lips, that always put me dretfully in mind of somebody, and who it wuz I could not for my life tell. Josiah used to take a book out of the bookcase, and read. Not one glance did I ever give, or did I ever let Josiah Allen give to them other rooms that opened out of this, nor into anything or anywhere, only jest that bookcase. We didn't abuse our priveleges; no, indeed! And Josiah would lean back dretful well-feelin', and thinkin' in his heart that it wuz his good looks that wuz wanted to embellish the room, and I kep on a wonderin' inside of myself what made Mr. Freeman so oncommon good to us, till one day he told us sunthin' that made it plainer to us, and Josiah Allen's pride had a fall (which, if his pride hadn't been composed of materials more indestructible than iron or gutty perchy, it would have been broke to pieces long before, so many times and so fur had it fell). But Mr. Freeman one day showed us a picture of his mother in a little velvet case. And, sez he to me-- "You look like her; I saw it the first time I met you." And I do declare the picture did look like me, only mebby--_mebby_ I say, she wuzn't quite so good-lookin'. Yes, I did look like his mother. And then I see the secret of his interest in, and his kindness to me and mine. And Mr. Freeman wuz raised up in my mind as many as 2 notches, and I don't know but 3 or 4. To think that he loved his mother's memory so well as to be so kind for her sake, for the sake of a fleetin' likeness, to be so good to another female. But Josiah Allen looked meachin'. I gin him a dretful meanin' look. I didn't say nothin', only jest that look, but it spoke volumes and volumes, and my pardner silently devoured the volumes, and, as I say, looked meachin' for pretty near a quarter of a hour. And that is a long time for a man to look smut, and conscience-struck. It hain't in 'em to be mortified for any length of time, as is well known by female pardners.