“You know what, Miss Mary,” ses I, “will you.” She didn’t say nothin’, but blushed worse and worse. “Now, mind,” ses I, “I must have a answer Crismus eve.” “Well,” ses she—and then she looked up and laughed, and sed—“exchange is no robbery, is it, sister Carline.” “No sis,” ses she, “but I reckon Joseph got his pay bout the same time you stole his——.” “Stop, stop, sister, Majer didn’t say his heart——.” “There, there!” ses Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah, clappin’ ther hands, and laughin’ as loud as they could—“there, there, little innocent sister’s let the cat out o’ the bag, at last. I told you so, Majer.” I never felt so good afore in all my life, and Miss Mary, pore gall, hid her face in her hands and begun to cry, she felt so about it—that’s the way with the galls, they always cry when they feel the happiest; but I soon got her in a good humour, and then I went home. I’m gwine to bring her rite up to the scratch Crismus, or I ain’t here. I’ll tell you how I cum out in my next. No more from Your friend, ’til deth, Jos. Jones. LETTER IV. Pineville, December 27th, 1842. Dear Sir, Crismus is over, and the thing’s ded. You know I told you in my last letter I was gwine to bring Miss Mary up to the chalk a Crismus. Well, I done it, slick as a whistle, though it come mighty nigh bein’ a serious undertakin’. But I’ll tell you all about the whole circumstance. The fact is, I’s made my mind up more’n twenty times to jest go and come rite out with the whole business; but whenever I got whar she was, and whenever she looked at me with her witchin’ eyes, and kind o’ blushed at me, I always felt sort o’ skeered and fainty, and all what I made up to tell her was forgot, so I couldn’t think of it to save me. But you’s a married man, Mr. Thompson, so I couldn’t tell you nothing about popin’ the question as they call it. It’s a mighty grate favour to ax of a rite pretty gall, and to people as ain’t used to it, it goes monstrous hard, don’t it? They say widders don’t mind it more’n nothin’. But I’m makin’ a transgression, as the preacher ses. Crismus eve I put on my new suit, and shaved my face as slick as a smoothin’ iron, and went over to old Miss Stallinses. As soon as I went into the parler whar they was all settin’ round the fire, Miss Carline and Miss Kesiah both laughed rite out. “There, there,” ses they, “I told you so, I knew it would be Joseph.” “What’s I done, Miss Carline?” ses I. “You come under little sister’s chicken-bone, and I do b’lieve she knew you was comin’ when she put it over the dore.” “No I didn’t—I didn’t no such thing, now,” ses Miss Mary, and her face blushed red all over. “Oh, you needn’t deny it,” ses Miss Kesiah, “you ’long to Joseph now, jest as sure as ther’s any charm in chicken-bones.”