It was full dark before they reached the Ford clearing. The faint, far away sound of a violin, seeming strange and out of place in the gloomy solitude of the great woods, first told them that other guests had already arrived. Then as they drew nearer and the tones of the instrument grew louder, they could hear the rhythmic swing and beat of heavily shod feet upon the rough board floors, with the shrill cries of the caller, and the half savage, half pathetic sing-song of the backwoods dancers, singing, “Missouri Gal.” Reaching the edge of the clearing, they involuntarily checked their horses, stopping just within the shadow of the timber. Here the sound of the squeaking fiddle, the shouting caller, the stamping feet, and the swinging dancers came with full force; and, through the open door and windows of the log house, they could see the wheeling, swaying figures of coatless men and calico gowned women, while the light, streaming out, opened long lanes in the dusk. About them in the forest’s edge, standing in groups under the trees, were the shadowy forms of saddle horses and mules, tied by their bridle reins to the lower branches; and nearer to the cabin, two or three teams, tied to the rail-fence, stood hitched to big wagons in which were splint-bottom chairs for extra seats. During the evening, the men tried in their rough, good natured way, to joke Young Matt about taking advantage of Ollie Stewart’s absence, but they very soon learned that, while the big fellow was ready to enter heartily into all the fun of the occasion, he would not receive as a jest any allusion to his relation to the girl, whom he had escorted to the party. Sammy, too, when her big companion was not near, suffered from the crude wit of her friends. “Ollie Stewart don’t own me yet,” she declared with a toss of the head, when someone threatened to write her absent lover. “No,” replied one of her tormentors, “but you ain’t aimin’ to miss your chance o’ goin’ t’ th’ city t’ live with them big-bugs.” In the laugh that followed, Sammy was claimed by a tall woodsman for the next dance, and escaped to take her place on the floor. “Well, Ollie’ll sure make a good man for her,” remarked another joker; “if he don’t walk th’ chalk, she can take him ’cross her knee an’ wallop him.” “She’ll surely marry him, alright,” said the first, “’cause he’s got th’ money, but she’s goin’ t’ have a heap o’ fun makin’ Young Matt play th’ fool before she leaves th’ woods. He ain’t took his eyes off her t’night. Everybody’s laughin’ at him.” “I notice they take mighty good care t’ laugh behind his back,” flashed little black-eyed Annie Brooke from the Cove neighborhood.