"'While this yere Polly is nursin' me, however, she takes on a different attitoode a whole lot. It looks like I begins to need her permanent, an' every time I sets my eyes on her I feels as soft as b'ar's grease. It's shorely love; that Polly Hawks is as sweet an' luscious as a roast apple.' "'Is she for troo so lovely?' asks Faro Nell, who's been hangin' onto Enright's words. "'Frankly, Nellie,' says Enright, sort o' pinchin' down his bluff; 'now that I'm ca'mer an' my blood is cool, this yere Polly don't seem so plumb prismatic. Still, I must say, she's plenty radiant.' "'Does you-all,' says Dan Boggs, 'put this yere Polly in nom'nation to be your wife while you're quiled up sick? ' "'No, I defers them offers to moments when I'm more robust,' says Enright. "'You shore oughter rode at her while you're sick that a-way,' remonstrates Boggs. 'That's the time to set your stack down. Females is easy moved to pity, an', as I've heared--for I've nothin' to go by, personal, since I'm never married an' is never sick none--is a heap more prone to wed a gent who's sick, than when he's well a lot.' "'I holds them doctrines myse'f,' observes Enright; 'however, I don't descend on Polly with no prop'sitions, neither then nor final, as you-all shall hear, Dan, if you'll only hold yourse'f down. No, I continyoos on lovin' Polly to myse'f that a-way, ontil I'm able to go pokin' about on crutches; an' then, as thar's no more need of her ministrations, Polly lines out for old Aunt Tilly's cabin ag'in. "'It's at this yere juncture things happens which sort o' complicates then dreams of mine. While I ain't been sayin' nothin', an' has been plumb reticent as to my feelin's, jest the same, by look or act, or mebby it's a sigh, I tips off my hand. It ain't no time before all the neighbors is aware of my love for Polly Hawks. Also, this Polly has a lover who it looks like has been co'tin' her, an' bringin' her mink pelts an' wild turkeys indeescrim'nate, for months. I never do hear of this gent ontil I'm cripplin' 'round on them stilts of crutches; an' then I ain't informed of him none only after he's informed of me. "'Thar's a measley little limberjaw of a party whose name is Ike Sparks; this Ike is allers runnin' about tellin' things an' settin' traps to capture trouble for other folks. Ike is a ornery anamile-- little an' furtif--mean enough to suck aigs, an' cunnin' enough to hide the shells. He hates everybody, this Ike does; an' he's as suspicious as Bill Johnson's dog, which last is that doubtful an' suspicious he shore walks sideways all his life for fear someone's goin' to kick him. This low-down Ike imparts to Polly's other lover about the state of my feelin's; an' then it ain't no time when I gets notice of this sport's existence.