understand it, but she's the kind of gal I go in fur!"

The latter clause of Syle's speech fitly expressed the sentiments of all
the young men in Bonpas Bottoms, as well as of many gentlemen not so
young.

Old men--farmers with daughters of their own--would cheerfully forego
the delights of either a prayer-meeting or a circus, and suddenly find
some business to transact with Matalette, whenever there seemed a
reasonable chance of seeing Helen; and such of them as had sons of a
marriageable age would express to those young men their entire
willingness to be promoted to the rank of fathers-in-law.

There was just one unpleasant thing about the Matalettes, both father
and daughter, and that was, the ease with which one could startle them.

It was rather chilling, until one knew Matalette well, to see him
tremble and start violently on being merely slapped on the shoulder by
some one whose approach he had not noticed; it was equally unpleasant
for a newcomer, on suddenly confronting Helen, to see her turn pale, and
look quickly and furtively about, as if preparing to run.

The editor of the _Bonpas Cornblade_, in a sonnet addressed to "H.M.,"
compared this action to that of a startled fawn; but the public wondered
whether Helen's father could possibly be excused in like manner, and
whether the comparison could, with propriety, be extended so as to
include the three hired men, who, curiously enough, were equally
timorous at first acquaintance.

But this single fault of the Matalettes and their adherents was soon