Mrs. Griggs nodded her head capably, in nowise dismayed. "I dunno
but that plan would work mighty well," she said.

This conjugal colloquy terminated as she glanced up and saw Birt.

"Why, thar's young Dicey a-hint ye. Howdy Birt! 'Light an' hitch!"

"Naw'm," rejoined Birt, as he rode into the enclosure and close up
to the doorstep. "I hain't got time ter 'light." Then
precipitately opening the subject of his mission. "I kem over hyar
ter see Nate. Whar hev he disappeared ter?"

"Waal, now, that's jes' what I'd like ter know," she replied, her
face eloquent with baffled curiosity. "He jes' borried his dad's
claybank mare, an' sot out, an' never 'lowed whar he war bound fur.
Nate hev turned twenty-one year old," she continued, "an' he 'lows
he air a man growed, an' obligated ter obey nobody but hisself.
From the headin' way that he kerries on hyar, a-body would s'pose he
air older 'n the Cumberland Mountings! But he hev turned twenty-
one--that's a fac'--an' he voted at the las' election."

(With how much discretion it need not now be inquired.)

"I knows that air true," said Birt, who had wistfully admired this
feat of his senior.

"Waal--Nate don't set much store by votin'," rejoined Mrs. Griggs.
"Nate, he say, the greatest privilege his kentry kin confer on him
is ter make it capital punishment fur wimmen ter ax him questions!--