Smiles | Page 7

that the neighbors' dogs will make
a meal of him," smiled Donald, and the object of the conversation, who
seemed to sense its meaning, sprang eagerly erect and placed his
forepaws on the girl's breast.
"No dawg haint a-goin' ter tetch him whilst he's with me," she
responded with quiet assurance. "Come, Mickey."
"Which air a fact," supplemented her grandfather, as girl and dog
disappeared with a rush and a bark. "Dumb beasts an' children worships
Smiles--an' hit haint scarse to be wondered at, fer she love 'em all. An'
she's more rememberful than her grandpappy. Yo' see, we don't
gener'ly hev milk fer our coffee, 'ceptin' when company comes."

In some distress at this frank announcement, Donald said, "But I don't
like to have you put yourselves out for me. I wouldn't have stayed if...."
"Now, don't let thet idee disturb ye a mite. We're glad ter hev ye with
us, an' what fer air friends ef hit haint ter be an excuse fer a leetle extry
celebration? Set down, set down thar."
Donald obeyed, and, while his host moved ponderously about,
depositing the contents of a bundle which he had brought, studied his
surroundings curiously. It was his first experience within a real "feud
country" cabin, and he was interested to see how closely its appearance
coincided with what his imagination had painted from reading fiction
woven about them. To his quiet delight he found that it might almost
have served as an illustration for such a book, as, one by one, he
mentally checked off the salient features. There were the hand-hewn
timbers of wall and unsheathed ceiling; the yawning rough stone
fireplace with its wrought iron crane, and, above it, a rifle whose
unusual length proclaimed its ownership; the strings of dried herbs and
red pepper pods--few, to be sure, and dusty with age--suspended from
the rafters; and, in one corner, a crude ladder leading into the loft.
Only one thing was missing, the wall-beds or bunks, for the hand of
civilization had pointed to one improvement, and doors, obviously not
a part of the original simple structure, opened into a small addition,
roughly partitioned into two sleeping rooms. They were of equal size,
but there was no need of labels to proclaim their occupants, for one was
so nearly filled with a bed which would have served for Golden Locks'
biggest bear, that the rough clothing which was suspended from
wooden pegs on the opposite wall hung against it, whereas the other
contained, besides a narrow bed, a small chest of drawers with a cheap
mirror above it, and a chair. The one window was draped with a
daintily-flowered material, which Donald decided was calico, a cover
of the same material lay across the chest, and on it--in the place of
honor between an old comb and brush stood a small blue-and-white jar,
whose cheaply glazed surface caught the flicker of the fire and winked
at him as though it were aware of the absurdity of anything so trivial
being held in such high esteem. More of the "calico," which really was

an inexpensive but tasteful chintz, hung against the wall and served to
hide from prying eyes the child's meagre wardrobe, and a bow of it was
perkily tied to the back of the chair.
Donald smiled his amusement and caught an answering grin on Big
Jerry's face. "She haint like we-all," he said. "Wants ter hev bright an'
purty things erbout, an' ..." he lowered his voice, "durned ef she didn't
make me a necktie of thet thar stuff--seen one on a 'furriner' once." The
visitor felt a warm satisfaction over the thought that his own costume
didn't include such excess adornment.
"I put hit on ... once, ter please her, but I reckon hit didn't make much
of a showin' under this." He ran his fingers reflectively through his
heavy beard for a moment; then, with his voice still a forte whisper, he
added, "Say, stranger, I've got a leetle drap o' white liquor hid out in the
woodshed whar Smiles kaint find hit, an' ef yo'd delight ter wet yo'r
throat afore she comes back, why ..."
The door flew open with a bang, and Rose and Mike tore in, panting
and a-glitter with diamond drops of rain. Instantly the expression of
simple guile on the old man's face changed so ludicrously to one of
overdone innocence that it was all Donald could do to keep from
laughing.
"Storm's a-comin'," cried the girl, gayly, while the dog rushed madly
around the room, with his nose to the floor and barking hilariously,
until his master seized him by the back and held him, squirming. A
flash of distant lightning substantiated the announcement, and a few
seconds later their ears caught the crescendo reverberations of