He might have maintained this let-alone attitude indefinitely but for a growing sense of the total depravity of vegetable sins and a realization of his miserable insufficiency as a combatant. Naturally, in looking about him for assistance he thought of her who should be his help-meet, and mentally began to question her continual absence from home. This evening he was feeling a little more tired than usual, and an ill-selected luncheon in town had depressed him. When he found that the weeds were likely to overpower him he arose and decided that Nannie must be called upon. She was not at home, but he could fetch her. To be sure that might not be easy, but Steve was now fully roused. Prolonged warfare had developed in his nature a trace of pugilism hitherto unsuspected by his nearest friend. Every man has more or less of the warrior within him. It may be asleep, but it is there, and Steve was no exception. A short walk brought him to the house of Nannie's cousin, and there he found the lady for whom he was seeking. "Are you going home now, Nannie?" he asked in his usual gentle way. Nannie looked into his face and saw something new, and it roused her opposition. "No," she said. Now, Steve had read Ian Maclaren's story of the wretched beadle who, newly inflated, but not profited, by his lonely wedding journey to a Presbyterian synod, resolved to experiment in the exercise of authority upon his bride. But, alas! he had read to his destruction. He remembered with what majesty the beadle said: "Rebecca, close the door." But he did not remember what Rebecca did, and hence had no better sense than to say this evening, with a quiet firmness new to his domestic use: "I should like to have you go home now, Nannie. There are matters that need your attention." Nannie rose at once and walked home without a word, Steve accompanying her. By the time they got there a young moon was sinking in the west, and with the curiosity common to extreme youth it strained its eyes to see through the trees what Nannie would do. "The radishes and lettuce need weeding," said Steve when they reached the garden, and Nannie walked directly to these beds and went to work, while Steve occupied himself at a little distance. Before long old Hayseed came up and leaned upon the fence. "Well, neighbor," he said, "what are ye doin' by moonlight?" Nannie stood erect and looked at him. Her black eyes fairly scintillated and her lips were compressed. All around her were scattered the uprooted weeds, and the lettuce and radishes lay with them. "What crop air ye raisin' now?" he asked. "I'm raising Cain!" she said. VIII