“The devil.”
“Well, I’d keep better company.”
“You see, Sally, I was going home to dinner one day, and the ram had the old man penned on the ice, and there they stood looking at each other. That’s what put it into my head. I didn’t think anything about the consequences till I saw the ram start for him. Then it all came to me, and I was over the fence in a minute; but it was too late. I don’t think I’m made like other folks. Such things come over me just like lightning, and it seems as if I was hurried. This is the last shine I shall ever cut up.”
“You’ve said so before, Joe.”
“But I mean it now; I’m purposed. Won’t you give me that shoe, Sally?”
“No, Joe, I’m going to keep it; and as sure as you cut up another shine, I’ll show it.”
Joe’s reformation was radical this time, and Sally ventured to marry him. Years after—when Mrs. Griffin—Sally Rhines was visiting her. In hunting over her drawers to find a pattern of a baby’s dress, she came across the shoe, and then it came out. She gave it to the baby to play with.
“I should be afraid to give it to him,” said Mrs. Rhines, “for fear he’d catch something, and go to cutting up shines when he grows up.”