"Didn't make no blunder--yuh couldn't confuse him.
A perfect wonder, yuh had to choose him!"

The schoolma'am was addicted to coon songs of the period.

She seemed to be very busy about something and Weary, craning his neck
to see over her shoulder, wondered what. Also, he wished he knew what
she was thinking about, and he hoped her thoughts were not remote from
himself. Just then Glory showed unmistakable and malicious intentions
of sneezing, and Weary, catching a glimpse of something in Miss
Satterly's hand, hastened to make his presence known.

"I hope yuh aren't limbering up that weapon of destruction on my
account, Schoolma'am," he observed mildly.

The schoolma'am jumped and slid something out of sight under her
ruffled, white apron. "Weary Davidson, how long have you been standing
there? I believe you'd come straight down from the sky or straight up
from the ground, if you could manage it. You seem capable of doing
everything except coming by the trail like a sensible man." This with
severity.

Weary swung a long leg over Glory's back and came lightly to earth,
immediately taking possession of the vacant half of doorstep. The
schoolma'am obligingly drew skirts aside to make room for him--an
inconsistent movement not at all in harmony with her eyebrows, which
were disapproving.

"Yuh don't like ordinary men. Yuh said so, once when I said I was just
a plain, ordinary man. I've sworn off being ordinary since yuh gave me