Perhaps these were neither the garments nor the airs in which every farmer-maiden did her baking. But then, Sally was no ordinary farmer-maiden. She was all this, it is true, but she was, besides, grace and color and charm itself. And if she chose to bake in such attire--or, even, if she chose to pretend to do so, where was the churl to say her nay, even though the flour was part of a deliberate "make up"? Certainly he was not at the store that summer morning. And Seffy was there. Her hair escaped redness by only a little. But that little was just the difference between ugliness and beauty. For, whether Sally were beautiful or not--about which we might contend a bit--her hair was, and perhaps that is the reason why it was nearly always uncovered--or, possibly, again, because it was so much uncovered was the reason it was beautiful. It seemed to catch some of the glory of the sun. Her face had a few freckles and her mouth was a trifle too large. But, in it were splendid teeth. In short, by the magic of brilliant color and natural grace she narrowly escaped being extremely handsome--in the way of a sunburned peach, or a maiden's-blush apple. And even if you should think she were not handsome, you would admit that there was an indescribable rustic charm about her. She was like the aroma of the hay-fields, or the woods, or a field of daisies, or dandelions. The girl, laughing, surrendered the money, and the old man, taking an arm of each, marched them peremptorily away. "Come to the house and git his clothes. Eferysing goes in--stofepipe hat, butterfly necktie, diamond pin, toothbrush, hair-oil, razor and soap." They had got far enough around the corner to be out of sight of the store, during this gaiety, and the old man now shoved Seffy and the girl out in front of him, linked their arms, and retreated to the rear. "What Sephenijah P. Baumgartner, Senior, hath j'ined together, let nobody put athunder, begoshens!" he announced. The proceeding appeared to be painful to Seffy, but not to Sally. She frankly accepted the situation and promptly put into action its opportunities for coquetry. She begged him, first, with consummate aplomb, to aid her in adjusting her parcels more securely, insisting upon carrying them herself, and it would be impossible to describe adequately her allures. The electrical touches, half-caress, half-defiance; the confidential whisperings, so that the wily old man in the rear might not hear; the surges up against him; the recoveries--only to surge again--these would require a mechanical contrivance which reports not only speech but action--and even this might easily fail, so subtle was it all! "Sef--Seffy, I thought it was his old watch he was auctioning off. I wanted it for--for--a nest-egg! aha-ha-ha! You must excuse me." "You wouldn't 'a' bid at all if you'd knowed it was me, I reckon," said Seffy.