Flea."

Avidly the woman ate the thick slice of bread and treacle, offering a
bit now and then to the cat. When she had devoured it Lem spoke:

"Now wash it down with this here water and tell me yer tale--and if ye
lie to me I'll kill ye!"

"I ain't a goin' to lie to ye--I'll tell ye the truth, I will!"

They both drank, the man from the bottle, the woman from a tin cup.
Presently she asked:

"Be ye goin' to marry Flea Cronk?"

"Who's been carryin' tales to ye?" shouted Lem, bounding from his chair.
"Ye better be a mindin' yer own affairs, or ye'll be havin' nothin' but
bats in yer head till ye die. Scoot for hum! Ye hear?"

"Yep; but I ain't goin' jest yet. Ye want to hear 'bout Flea, don't ye?"

"Yep."

"Then set down an' I'll tell ye."

Lem, growling impatience, seated himself.

"Flea Cronk ain't for you, Lem!"

"Who said as how she ain't?" demanded Lem, starting up. The cat spat