“Then there was Hime’s dancin’ turkey,” he went on, apparently enjoying his recollections hugely. “For two or three years after that he was ’round with a fiddle and turkey and a sheet of tin. He’d put the turkey on the tin with nettin’ around and set behind and fiddle ‘Speed the Plough,’ and keep moving a lamp back and forth under that tin with his toe, and the old gobbler would have to tip-toe Nancy mighty lively to hunt for the cool places. Looked like he was jiggin’. I’m knowin’ to it that he cleaned up sev’ral thousand dollars on that ‘dancin’ turkey,’ as he called it. “All the time his father couldn’t do nothin’ with him! Kind of a good-meanin’ chap, Hime allus was, though. Lib’ral with his money. Come easy, went easy. Drove a nice team. Girls all liked him. No girl caught him, though, till little Myry Austin got into long dresses. Hime was nigh onto thirty then, and had gone into a general dickerin’ bus’ness about the same as King Bradish does in town now; sold produce on commission, you know, and handled farmin’ tools, and so forth. He got to be real likely them days, and he reelly did think an awful sight of that Austin girl. It straightened him all out, havin’ her take a likin’ to him, and ’twas all understood in P’lermo as bein’ settled between ’em. And then what did young Klebe Willard do but come back from college with a cap on the back of his head ’bout as big as a cooky and his hair puffed out in front and puttin’ on more airs than a pigeon on a ridgepole. And havin’ nothin’ else to do he cut out Hime, and Hime didn’t know it for a long time, ’cause Klebe done his courtin’ on the sly on account of the old man. And when Hime did find it out--last one almost in the village, as us’ly happens in them cases, and got the mitten--well, you talk about goin’ to Tophet at an angle of forty-five with the track greased! Nothin’ but cards and hoorah-ste’boy, and tryin’ to make believe he didn’t care. I swanny, ’twas pitiful when you knowed what was underneath.” Amazeen sighed and bored his cane into the soil, his elbows on his knees. “There was excuses for him, most of us knowed that!” volunteered Uncle Buck. “And as though he hadn’t done enough in breakin’ up the engagement--which wa’n’t no trouble, seein’ that Hime was so much older and she only kind o’ silly and teetered up by havin’ a dude like Judge Willard’s boy show her attention--Klebe had to go and sass Hime one ev’nin’ right here in front of this store---that was when old Bruce owned it. Hime was pretty well tea-ed up--drinkin’ some, you understand, along with the rest--and he drove up here, leaned back and looked a long time at Klebe, who was standin’ on the platform smokin’ a cigarette. ‘I bought her ev’rything I could think of,’ says Hime, ‘but she had to go dicker for a poodle-dog and trade herself off, even swap!’