“Well, I guess you got to, now,” said 'Manda Grier, “after all my trouble. Hain't she, Mr. Barker?” It flattered Lemuel through and through to be appealed to, but he could not say anything. “Well,” said Statira, “if I got to, I got to. But you got to hold the Bible.” “You got to put the key in!” cried 'Manda Grier. She sat holding the Bible open toward Statira. She offered to put the key in, and then she stopped. “Well! I'm great! Who are we going to find it for first?” “Oh, company first,” said 'Manda Grier. “You company, Mr. Barker?” asked Statira, looking at Lemuel over her shoulder. “I hope not,” said Lemuel gallantly, at last. “Well, I declare!” said Statira. “Quite one the family,” said 'Manda Grier, and that made Statira say, “'Manda!” and Lemuel blush to his hair. “Well, anyway,” continued 'Manda Grier, “you're company enough to have your fate found first. Put in the key, S'tira.” “No, I sha'n't do it.” “Well, _I_ shall, then!” She took the key from Statira, and shut the book upon it at the Song of Solomon, and bound it tightly in with a ribbon. Lemuel watched breathlessly; he was not sure that he knew what kind of fate she meant, but he thought he knew, and it made his heart beat quick. 'Manda Grier had passed the ribbon through the ring of the key, which was left outside of the leaves, and now she took hold of the key with her two forefingers. “You got to be careful not to touch the Bible with your fingers,” she explained, “or the charm won't work. Now I'll say over two verses, 't where the key's put in, and Mr. Barker, you got to repeat the alphabet at the same time; and when it comes to the first letter of the right name, the Bible will drop out of my fingers, all I can do. Now then! _Set me as a seal on thine heart_--” “A, B, C, D.” began Lemuel. “Pshaw, now, 'Manda Grier, you stop!” pleaded Statira. “You be still! Go on, Mr. Barker!--_As a seal upon thine arm; for love is as strong as death_--don't say the letters so fast--_jealousy as cruel as the grave_--don't look at S'tira; look at me!--_the coals thereof are coals of fire_--you're sayin' it too slow now--_which hath a most vehement flame._ I declare, S'tira Dudley, if you joggle me!--_Many waters cannot quench love; neither can the floods drown it_--you must put just so much time between every letter; if you stop on every particular one, it ain't fair--_if a man would give all the substance of his house for love_--you stop laughin', you two!--_it would be utterly consumed_. Well, there! Now we got to go it all over again, and my arm's most broke _now_.”