She had
just stepped over the bars into the pen, when who should appear, sauntering
up, but Zeke White! He assumed a brave front, and with hands thrust in his
pantaloons pockets, came up, whistling softly.
"Good-mornin', Zekle," greeted Father Tyler, rising from his stooping
position.
"Good-mornin', Mr. Tyler. Fine mornin'."
"Ya'as; but I'm erfeared we're goin' ter hev rain in er day er two. I feel
ruther rheumaticky this mornin', er mighty shore sign that rain ain't fur
off. Want milk fer breakfus, Mandy Calline? Well, fetch here yer pitcher."
A shy "good-mornin"' had passed between Mandy Calline and Zekle, and he
sauntered up beside her, taking the pitcher, and as they stepped over the
bars Father Tyler, hospitably inclined, said: "Take breakfus with us,
Zekle? I lay Malviny 'll hev ernuff cooked ter give yer er bite."
With assumed hesitation Zekle accepted the invitation, and he and Mandy
Calline passed on to the house, he carefully carrying the pitcher of milk.
He cleared his throat a time or two, and remarked again on the beauty of
the morning, to which she rather nervously assented; then suddenly, the
words seemingly shot out of him: "Mandy Calline, I'm goin' ter ask th' ole
folks ter-day.
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