"Watts! Hain't yo' shamed a-cussin'?" cried his scandalized spouse.
"Why was he in such a hurry?" asked the girl.
"I dunno. He jes' turned the mewl loost an' says to keep the pack till yo' pa come back, an' larruped off."
Patty rose from the chair and gathered up her bridle reins. "I must be going, really. You see, I've got my chores to do, and supper to get, and I want to go to bed early so I'll be fresh in the morning." She mounted, and turned to Ma Watts: "Can't you come up some day and bring the children? I'd love to have you. Let's arrange the day now, so I will be sure to be home."
"Lawzie, I'd give a purty! Listen at thet, now, Watts. Cain't we fix to go?"
Watts fumbled his beard: "Why, yas, I reckon, some day, mebbe."
"What day can you come?" asked Patty.
"Well, le's see, this yere's about a Tuesday." He paused, glanced up at the sky, and gave careful scrutiny to the horizon. "How'd Sunday a week suit yo'—ef hit don't rain?"
"Fine," agreed the girl, smiling. "And, by the way, I came down past the upper pasture. The fence looks grand. It didn't take long to fix it, did it?"
"Well, hit tuk quite a spell—all day yeste'day, an' up 'til noon to-day. We only got one side an' halft another done, an' they's two sides an' a halft yet. But Mr. Bethune came by this noon, him an' Lord, an' 'lowed he worn't in no gret hurry fer hit, causen he heerd from Schultz thet the hoss business 'ud haf to wait over a spell——"