Lem sat with his head bent, hands folded meekly; Ginger himself had never shown greater dejection, and, like Ginger, he did not move. "Oh, let him erlone," said Mill Thornton, lifting his tankard and including the company with a bland smile. "He’s goin’ ter sing ther Ole Settler fur us." "I ain’t nuther; I dunno it. Ask Cousin Samanthy." Lem cast a sidelong glance at the young man, who blushed hotly and put down his embarrassment with a draught from the tankard. "She’d be mighty diserpointed ef you didn’t ask her; she’s be’n gittin’ ready fur a week." With this Lem helped himself liberally from the platter in his mother’s hands, and cast another look at Samantha, who, also flushing pinkly, stood in amazement, while the coffee-pot which she carried poured a brown stream on the earth. "Pshaw, ’tain’t so," she said, drawing her breath quickly. "Lem ’lowed all along he’d sing it ef I’d learn him ther words. Fur ther land sakes," she added, addressing the coffee-pot, which she speedily righted; and at the same time she caught the skirt of her pink cotton frock out of range. "I dunno ’em all," said Lem, and boldly held out his empty cup. "Guess you’ll hev ter, Samanthy," said Eben, laughing. "Come, now, tune up." At this, a cry repeated warmly by a score of throats, the girl put down the coffee-pot and darted away. It then became Mill Thornton’s office to pursue and bring her back. He was encouraged by shouts and laughter as the pink dress appeared and disappeared among the trees. She stopped at length all flushed and panting, and turned her face shyly to her pursuer. "I guess I’ll hev ter, Mill. I’m ready ter drop." "You’re mighty pretty that erway," he said softly, putting his hand on her arm,—he felt its plump roundness through the thin sleeve,—"I’d like ter kiss you, ef I ’lowed you could stand it to hev that ther tiresome crowd laffin’." "My stars, Mill," she said and all the imps in her eyes mocked him, "ain’t you good? You’re most er an-gel. I’ll bet under your shirt you kin jest feel ther wings er sproutin’." But even then his courage failed him. "Oh, kem on," he said, "ther ain’t er girl in this hull deestrict kin beat you singin’. I’m ready ter lick ther fellow says so." He led her back towards the waiting company, his grasp tightening on her arm. She hung her head and came reluctantly, catching at a branch, dragging her feet. "Well," said Eben, putting down his mug and drawing his hand across his whiskers, "ef you’re done er bein’ bashful, now, Samanthy, we’re ready ter listen." She straightened herself with a little cough and looked at her audience. Then her glance fell and she shrank behind her captor with a faint, "I don’t like ter."