Long the lovers sat under the great tree. The seven o'clock trolley whistled for the next to the last stop, but Jeff and Judith did not hear it. Fortunately for the hungry men, Uncle Billy had seen from afar the young people seeking the shade of the beech grove and when Judith did not return to the house he had astutely reasoned that matters of import were detaining her. "Here, Mandy, give me that there basket er victuals an' I'll make tracks fer the platform. Miss Judy an' Marse Jeff air a co'tin' an' when folks air a co'tin' time ain't mo'n the win' blowin'." Miss Ann received the news of the engagement with happy tears and Mrs. Buck said that it was Judith's business and she had always known what she wanted from the time she was born. If she wanted Jeff Bucknor, Mrs. Buck reckoned it was all right. He seemed a likely enough young man, but she hoped he knew how to save, because Judith did not. The old men of Ryeville were satisfied when Jeff Bucknor told them he would run for the office of county attorney if they so wished it. At the same time he broke to them the news of his engagement. The veterans exchanged sly glances and laughed delightedly. Little did the young man dream that they had planned this political coup for the sole purpose of bringing to the county the person they considered the most suitable as a husband for their protege. "It was my idee, my idee!" Pete Barnes declared. The happiest of all the friends of the young couple was old Billy. "Marse Jeff done tol' me Miss Ann wa'n't never ter want an' now, bless Bob, he's gonter come an' live with us-alls an' look arfter the whole bilin'. I sho' air glad he's gonter come here instead er us havin' ter pick up an' go wharever he is. The portulac air comin' up so pretty in my box an' my jewraniums air a bloomin', an' I done made Mandy one willin' husband, an' Miss Ann air so brisk an' happy it would go hard on us all ter have ter be movin'. A ol' hen air took ter settin' in the ca'ige which makes it seem moughty homified. I'd sho' be proud ter think me'n Miss Ann could live ter see the day that little chilluns would be playin' stage coach an' injun in Miss Ann's ol' rockaway." End of Project Gutenberg's The Comings of Cousin Ann, by Emma Speed Sampson