paid to Aunt Siloam's memory, by a momentary silence.

"Fust-rate! that harum scarum venter er mine was the best I ever
made. She's done waal by me, hes Bewlah; ben a grand good
haousekeeper, kin kerry on the farm better'n me, any time, an' is as
dutif'l an' lovin' a wife as,--waal as annything that _is_ extra
dutif'l and lovin'."

"Got any boys to brag of?"

"We don't think much o' boys daown aour way; they're 'mazin resky
stock to fetch up,--alluz breakin' baounds, gittin' intew the
paound, and wurry your life aout somehaow 'nother. Gals naow doos
waal; I got six o' the likeliest the is goin', every one on 'em is
the very moral of Bewlah,--red hair, black eyes, quiet ways, an' a
mold side the nose. Baby's ain't growed yet; but I expect tew see it
in a consid'able state o' forrardness, when I git hum, an' wouldn't
miss it fer the world."

The droll expressions of Flint's face, and the satisfied twang of
his last words, were irresistable. Dick and Phil went off into a
shout of laughter; and even Thorn's grave lips relapsed into a smile
at the vision of six little Flints with their six little moles. As
if the act were an established ceremony, the "paternal head"
produced his pocket-book, selected a worn, black and white paper,
which he spread in his broad palm, and displayed with the air of a
connoisseur.

"There, thets Bewlah! we call it a cuttin'; but the proper name's a
silly-hoot I b'leeve. I've got a harnsome big degarrytype tew hum