so big a change as you think; I have a habit of blowin' up a squall when
I'm gettin' ready to calm down. But, anyway, that young-one would change
anybody's mind. She's different from any girl of her age ever I saw.
She's pretty as a little picture and sweet and wholesome as a--as a
summer sweet apple. She don't pester, and she don't tease, and she don't
lie--no, sir, not even when I'd consider layin' the course a p'int or
two from the truth a justifiable proceedin'. She's got inside my vest,
somehow or 'nother, and I did think I was consider'ble of a hard-shell.
She's all right, Mary-'Gusta is. I'm about ready to say 'Thank you' to
Marcellus."

And so it was settled, and Mary-'Gusta Lathrop was no longer a visitor,
but a permanent member of the odd household at South Harniss. She was
delighted when she heard the news, although, characteristically, she
said very little beyond confiding to her two "uncles" that she was
going to be a good girl and not take David into the parlor again. The
remainder of her "things" and belongings were sent over by the Judge
and, in due time, the guardianship papers were signed.

"There!" exclaimed Zoeth, laying down the pen. "That settles it, I
cal'late. Now, Mary-'Gusta, you're our little girl, mine and your Uncle
Shad's, for good and all."

"Not quite so long as that, Zoeth," put in the smiling Shadrach. "We'll
hang on to her for a spell, I shouldn't wonder; but one of these days,
a hundred years from now or such matter, there's liable to be a
good-lookin' young feller sparkin' 'round here and he'll want to marry
her and take her somewheres else. What'll you say when it comes to that,
Mary-'Gusta?"