“That certainly is a rare device,” said Hillhouse. “I don’t know that I ever heard of one before.” “I reckon not,” the farmer returned placidly. “Somebody always has to lead out in matters of improvement. My wife an’ daughter was dead set agin me usin’ it at fust. They never looked into the workin’ of it close, an’ thought I mashed my prey on my head, but thar never was a bigger mistake. The flap don’t even puncture the skin, as tender as their hides are. I know, beca’se they always fall flat o’ their backs an’ kick awhile before givin’ up.” At this moment Mrs. Porter came to the door and announced that dinner was ready. CHAPTER V Pole Baker decided to give the young people of the neighborhood a corn-shucking. He had about fifty bushels of the grain, which he said had been mellowing and sweetening in the husk all the winter, and, as the market had advanced from sixty to seventy-five cents, he decided to sell. Pole’s corn-shuckings were most enjoyable festivities. Mrs. Baker usually had some good refreshments and the young people came from miles around. The only drawback was that Pole seldom had much corn to husk, and the fun was over too soon. The evening chosen for the present gathering was favored with clear moonlight and balmy weather. When Nelson Floyd walked over, after working an hour on his books at the store, he found a merry group in Pole’s front yard. “Yo’re jest in time,” Pole called out to him as he threw the frail gate open for the guest to pass through. “I was afeard thar was a few more petticoats than pants to string around my pile o’ corn, but you’ll help even up. Come on, all of you, let’s mosey on down to the barn. Sally,” he called out to his wife, a sweet-faced woman on the porch, “put them childern to sleep an’ come on.” With merry laughter the young men and girls made a rush in the direction of the barn. Nelson Floyd, with a sudden throbbing of the heart, had noticed Cynthia Porter with the other girls, and as he and Baker fell in behind, he asked: “Who came with Cynthia Porter, Pole?” “Nobody,” said Baker. “She come over jest ’fore dark by the short cut through the meadow. I’ll bet a hoss you are thinkin’ o’ gallivantin’ ’er back home.” “That’s what I came for,” said Floyd, with a smile. “Well, I’m sorry, for this once,” said Pole, “but I cayn’t alter my plans fer friend or foe. I don’t have but one shuckin’ a year, an’ on that occasion I’m a-goin’ to be plumb fair to all that accept my invite. You may git what you want, but you’ll have to stand yo’r chance with the balance. I’ll announce my rules in a minute, an’ then you’ll understand what I mean.” They had now reached the great cone of corn, heaped up at the door of the barn, and the merrymakers were dancing around it in the moonlight, clapping their hands and singing.