marry."

"Well, one may think of many things," said the lassie, as she stood
there and smiled slyly. She really thought the old fellow ought to be
thinking of something that behooved him better than getting married at
his time of life.

"Now, you see," he said, "I was thinking that you should be my wife!"

"No, thank you," said she, "and much obliged for the honor."

The squire was not used to being gainsaid, and the more she refused him
the more he wanted her. But the lassie would not listen to him at all.
So the old man sent for her father and told him that, if he could talk
his daughter over and arrange the whole matter for him, he would forgive
him the money he had lent him, and would give him the piece of land
which lay close to his meadow into the bargain.

"Yes, yes, be sure I'll bring the lass to her senses," said the father.
"She is only a child and does not know what is best for her."

But all his coaxing, all his threats and all his talking, went for
naught. She would not have the old miser, if he sat buried in gold up to
his ears, she said.

The squire waited and waited, but at last he got angry and told the
father that he had to settle the matter at once if he expected him to
stand by his bargain, for now he would wait no longer.

The man knew no other way out of it, but to let the squire get