mounted his horse, and betook himself at a gallop to the village
church. Ajax remarked with regret that the pace was too hot at the
start, and feared that our colt would finish badly. As we walked back
to the verandah, I told my brother that he had assumed a big
responsibility; for I was convinced that Miss Dutton, albeit possessed
of many admirable qualities, was not the woman to make little
Jasperson either happy or comfortable. She, doubtless, being a wise
bird, would greedily snap up this nice worm who had waxed fat in the
richest soil. But how would the worm fare when swallowed up and
absorbed?

At five that afternoon the amorous poet rode slowly up to the corral.
As he sat limply upon his sorrel horse, smiling dismally at Ajax, we
could see that the curl was out of his moustache, and out of the brim
of his sombrero; upon his delicate face was inscribed failure.

"Boys," said he, throwing one leg over the horn of the saddle; "I
didn't get there. I--I mired down!"

Later, he gave us some interesting details. It transpired that he had
met his sweetheart, after Sabbath-school, and had sat beside her
during the regular service; after church he had accepted a warm
invitation from Mrs. Swiggart to join the family circle at dinner. At
table he had been privileged to supply Miss Birdie with many dainties:
pickled cucumbers, cup-custards, and root beer. He told us frankly
that he had marked nothing amiss with the young lady's appetite, but
that for his part he had made a sorry meal.

"My swaller," he said plaintively, "was in kinks before the boolyon
was served."