field. He cheerfully worked overtime and his labors did not make him
tired. When the quitting horn blew he executed a double shuffle as he
shouldered his hoe and started for his cabin. While the other men
dragged wearily over the ground he sprang along as if all day long he
had not been bending over the hoe in the hot sun, with the sweat
streaming from his face in rivulets.

And this had been going on for two months now--two happy months--ever
since Viney had laid her hand in his, had answered with a coquettish
"Yes," and the master had given his consent, his blessing and a
five-dollar bill.

It had been a long and trying courtship--that is, it had been trying
for Ben, because Viney loved pleasure and hungered for attention and
the field was full of rivals. She was a merry girl and a pretty one.
No one could dance better; no girl on the place was better able to
dress her dark charms to advantage or to show them off more
temptingly. The toss of her head was an invitation and a challenge in
one, and the way she smiled back at them over her shoulder, set the
young men's heads dancing and their hearts throbbing. So her suitors
were many. But through it all Ben was patient, unflinching and
faithful, and finally, after leading him a life full of doubt and
suspense, the coquette surrendered and gave herself into his keeping.

She was maid to her mistress, but she had time, nevertheless, to take
care of the newly whitewashed cabin in the quarters to which Ben took
her. And it was very pleasant to lean over and watch him at work
making things for the little house--a chair from a barrel and a
wonderful box of shelves to stand in the corner. And she knew how to
say merry things, and later outside his door Ben would pick his banjo