The store-keeper smiled upon her, playing with the hound's ears. "Oh, we never disapp'int folks," he replied. "But we ain't peculiar. Higher up the mountains you might find folks that are right queer in their ways. Up thar they ain't got no money at all 'cept coon skins. Well, do you want to buy anythin'?" "No," said Mrs. Mayfield, "not to-day." "Got some right good snuff here if you want it." "I don't use snuff." "You don't? An' come round talkin' 'bout peculiar folks, too? Little one," he said to Lou, "tell yo' daddy I may drap over to see him as soon as my present rush is over. Trade is suthin' that don't wait fur no man, Mrs. Mayflower." "Auntie, you'll have to buy something after that," said Tom. "I don't see how you can get away from it." "Then I will show you. I wish you would tell Kintchin that we are ready to go." CHAPTER V. COULDN'T QUARREL IN PEACE. When Jim and Mrs. Mayfield were near the door, just before starting for the post-office, she with graceful ceremony and he with the simple grin of devout worship, Old Jasper had stood looking at them, with an expression of mock seriousness; and when they went out, Starbuck slapped his leg and snorted with laughter. Margaret reproved him with her ever industrious eye. "Blamed if I didn't think they was goin' to dance right thar," said the old man. "Jasper, what makes you wanter talk thatter way?" "Didn't see how they could keep from it, Margaret. Couldn't see no way to hold 'em back. Jest as ready to dance as the b'ar and the monkey that the feller come along the road with last year, mebbe year befo' last. I tell you, Jim ain't been a readin' them books on the hill-top fur nothin'. I gad, every time he looks at her he flips a star." He walked about the room, shaking his head. "The po' feller's hit. I gad, when you flutter fine calico the preachers come a runnin' with the rest of 'em. She's caught him, but he'll suffer an' say nuthin'. It's mighty hard work to wring a squeal outen a Starbuck. In that respeck we air sorter like wild hogs. I've seed a dog chaw a wild pig all to pieces an' he tuck it with never a squeal--mout have grunted a little, but he didn't squeal. Puffeckly nat'ral to grunt under sich circumstances, ain't it?" "Oh, what do I care for yo' nonsense?" "Nonsense! The affairs of the human fam'ly ain't nonsense, is they? Heigho, but she's a mighty good woman." "Of course," said Margaret, crossing the room and sitting down in a rocking-chair. "Of course. A man thinks every woman's good--but his wife." "Had to break out, didn't you? Have I said you wan't good?" "Might as well say it as to act it." "How am I actin' it?" "By not lovin' me, that's how."