“Ef it hadn’t be’n fer them onions,” he declared, “she’d never have took a fancy t’ me. ’N’ ef I hadn’t ’a’ heard o’ John Closner of Hidalgo, Texas, ’s like’s not I’d ’a’ never took t’ raisin’ ’em. Them onions kinder drored Marthy’s ’tention t’ me—she thinkin’ ’at mebbe I’d git a heap o’ money fer ’em, ’n’ then be accommodatin’ ’nough t’ die an’ go t’ heaven immediate. Yes, ma’am, she’d got it all worked out in her own mind, even t’ widow’s thirds. Then, y’ see, the Cap’n’s red ink fitted right in t’ the scheme o’ salvation; an’ here we be. I figger it this way: the Lord hes be’n ’quainted with Marthy Cottle fer a spell longer’n we hev, an’ _He_ knew she wa’n’t fit t’ b’ left in charge o’ the Cap’n, t’ say nothin’ o’ things in general.” “But what shall I do with Jimmy?” murmured Barbara, wrinkling her forehead perplexedly. “It won’t be long now before I shall be obliged to leave him.” “Don’t you worry none ’bout that,” advised Peg. “Everythin’s a-comin’ out all right. I’ll bet a dollar’n a half,” he went on, raising his voice to a high argumentative pitch, “that the Lord hes got his plans all made a’ready. W’y, Miss Barb’ry, it’ll do you a heap o’ good t’ jus’ take notice o’ the way the Lord kind o’ fetches things ’round in this ’ere world. I’ve got so ’t I don’t put in a minute worryin’. Daytimes I’m too blamed busy, an’ nights I’m too sleepy ’n’ tired; ’n’ I’ve learned f’om a long life of experience ’at worryin’ ain’t no kind o’ use, anyhow. Things is bein’ worked ’round fer you, nigh an’ fur, an’ the fust thing you know you’re gittin’ ’long all hunky-dory. Mebbe doin’ the very thing you wanted to do all the while, but thought you couldn’t, nohow you’d fix it.” “I wish I could believe it,” sighed Barbara. “All you’ve got t’ do is t’ begin t’ take notice,” urged Peg. “You don’t have t’ make no speshul effort. Keep yer eyes peeled an’ watch out. I ain’t worryin’ none ’bout the Cap’n. You bet I ain’t.”