"She's a right cow," said Aunt Ailsie; "but"--solemnly--"hit takes a woman-person to get the best out of a cow." She sighed deeply. "But, women, that's neither here nor yander now; what I come for to-day was to tell you my man has give his consent for me to get larning--enough, anyhow, to read Scripter, though no more." "Oh, we're so glad for you--you must have your first lesson right after dinner." "That's what I aim to; 'pears like I can't hardly wait to begin." Just then Fult came up behind and laid a detaining hand on Aunt Ailsie's arm. "Stop a minute, granny--here's somebody craves to meet you." Aunt Ailsie fell back behind the others. "Oh, the singing gal!" she exclaimed, looking for a long minute into Isabel's face, then turning her around for a rear view, and summing up the inventory with "Now, hain't she pretty as a poppet!" Fult's eyes expressed concurrence. "What's your name, daughtie?" "Isabel Gwynne." "How old air you?" "Twenty." "You don't look hit. You hain't got ary man yet, I allow?" "No." "Well, praise the Lord there's one amongst the quare women hain't a old maid! You got a whole year to go on yet, and, judging by your looks, you'll likely land a man before hit's over. I heared you sing this morning, and hit was fine. I follered singing myself when I were young." "Yes, Mr. Fallon told me about it; he said you used to be able to sing ballads the night through, and never repeat yourself." "Eh law, yes." "And that you taught him those he knows. He has sung two or three for me, and I'm crazy about them, and can hardly wait to hear more. I hoped maybe you might sing for me this afternoon." Aunt Ailsie drew back, with a frightened expression. "My fathers!" she said; "hit would be as much as my life is worth to sing song-ballats in public this way; my man can't abide 'em sence he j'ined; he allows they are devil's ditties, and won't have one raised under his roof." "But this isn't his roof," laughed Isabel, glancing up at the sky. "Eh law, when Lot says roof, he means anybody belongs under his roof. If I was to sing on this here hill, the news would travel over the county in less time than hit takes to tell hit, and Lot would be everly scandalized amongst the Old Primitives, and the sky would nigh fall. Now, though I hain't the songster I used to be, I _feel_ to sing for you. I love hit better'n life, seems like. But a woman don't dairst to fly right pine-blank in the face of Scripter and disobey her husband!" "No, I suppose not," admitted Isabel; "but how did you teach Mr. Fallon?" Aunt Ailsie leaned forward and spoke in Isabel's ear. "I done hit unbeknownst!" she said: "I tuck Fulty up on top the ridge, and a leetle yan side, where no human couldn't hear, and my man couldn't noway be scandalized!" "Well, why not take me up sometime, too?"