"Fairy tale!" The wise one uttered this with violent scorn. "Likely you was the sleepin' beauty, an' this here princess comes along with an alarm clock!"
"Not a princess, Ben." He laughed boyishly. "She's a sure-enough queen."
"Jest remember they's knaves in the deck. That's all I ask."
"You like her don't you?"
Ben made an effort to be fair.
"Well, I do an' then I don't. She's saddle stock, fur looks, that lady is, but she ain't serious. No, sir! When her eyes is on me I know as well's I want to she's snickerin' inside; makes no difference if her face does look like it was starched. You'll find, when all's said an' done, that she's plumb levitous, an' levitous folks is triflin'."
"Have you seen how sorrowful she looks sometimes, a sort of glad-sorry, as if she felt sorry for herself and glad for other people? She makes me feel old when she looks that way—as if I must protect her."
"Yes, an' other times she's stiffer'n Lot's wife!"
"Other times she seems older than all the world, a woman who has always lived and always will."
"Well, son, when you git put afoot there, you write on an' I'll manage to scare up a git-away stake fur you."