Then he began with jocular pokings to push the folks out of the door, and even subjected Deputy-Sheriff Purday to that treatment when the zealous officer came along to have a private word with him. “But look-a-here, Squire,” protested Purday, hanging back, “Klebe is really under arrest, you know, and you understand what the law is.” “Deputy,” the Squire said, holding him by the arm a moment, “under the circumstances the highest law I know of is this: ‘What God hath joined together let no man put asunder.’” He pointed to the mother and the father with the children between them. “The grand jury of human hearts returns no indictment. Go home.” He pushed Purday out behind the last straggler and slammed the door and bolted it on the inside. CHAPTER XXV--AQUARIUS WHARFF SEES SOMETHING BESIDES HARD TIMES IN THE SUNSET Slowly he passed, for he stopped to pick The stones from the road with his old crook stick. Rolled them left and rolled them right From early morning till late at night. And to wondering folk who paused to ask The reasons that prompted this self-set task He said, with a smile for their doubting gaze, “I’m simply helpin’ ye mend your ways!” It was August again. The flies buzzed lazily in the late afternoon hush, and the knife-nicked bench in the shade cast by Asa Brickett’s store had its accustomed row of old men, who buzzed in conversation as lazily as the flies. “This has been about the tejousest summer I ever put through,” complained Uncle Lysimachus Buck, after a yawn. “Ev’rything seems to be deader’n the latch on a bulkhead door.” “Mebbe it’s because Hime Look has settled up country on the Snell farm,” observed Marriner Amazeen with a bit of malice. “Reports is that he’s givin’ ’em a little flavour of circus right along in that section,” said Dow Babb. “Feller from that way was tellin’ me that Hime has been doin’ a job of breakin’ up with that el’phunt hitched to the plow. Hime allowed as how P. T. Barnum tells in his book that he used an el’phunt to plow with, and he wa’n’t goin’ to let no P. T.’s git ahead of _him_. Ev’ry hoss that come along past stuck up ears and tail and tried to climb a tree and pull the tree up after. Feller said that one of the neighbours went to Hime fin’ly and said that he’d been readin’ in some tormented book erruther that in old days the Romans, or some of them old sirs, whoever they be, used to sacrifice animiles when there was any good luck had come to ’em and they wanted to celebrate account of it. Neighbour hinted that marryin’ Abby Snell was good enough luck for any man to brag of, and wanted to know why Hime didn’t offer Imogene up as a sacrifice. Told Hime the neighbours would git up a bee, if he did, and club in with him mighty enthusiastic.” Babb unlocked his legs and chuckled.