"If you insist," Perry replied. "Well then, you are settin' up with
her. You've invited her to be your lady at the next spellin' bee
between Six Stars and Turkey Walley, and she has said she'll think
about it. Then you've told her that there is something wrong with you.
You don't know what it is, 'ceptin' you feel all peekit like for no
special reason; you can't eat no more, and sleep poorly and has sighin'
spells. Then she kind of peeks at you outen the corner of her eye and
smiles. S'posin' just then in comes this man and bows most polite, and
tells you he is so delighted to see you, and makes her move from the
settee where you are, to a rocker close to him; and leans over her and
asks about the health of all the family as if they was his nearest and
dearest; inquires about her dog; tells her she looks just like the
portrates of his great-grandma. S'posin' she just kind of looks at the
floor quiet-like or else up to him--you'll begin to think you ain't
there at all, won't you? Then you'll concide that you are there but
you oughtn't to be, and kind of slide out without your hat and forget
your fiddle. I tell you, Mark, it's then love becomes a consumin'
fire."

[Illustration: "You'll begin to think you ain't there at all."]

Perry looked at me appealingly. Men hesitate to speak of love--except
to women. He had already shown a frankness that was surprising, but
then with a certain deftness he had placed me in the position of the
sentimental one with a problem to solve. He was seeking for himself a
solution of that problem, and was appealing to me to help him.

"Suppose again," said I, "that going another day to see the girl, I
found her poring over a pile of books--all new books--just given her by