"Well, I used to tell her if she got old and grey, it wouldn't make no difference in my feelins," said the old man, rubbing his great, coarse hand across his eyes.
"'Tain't natur," he began after a moment's pause, "to keep our feelings shet in allers. Now, mammy is chuck full of spunk since she's married me, so I aint let on to nobody. Ye see, if she got hold on't, she'd never give me a minute's peace."
"Well, why didn't you marry Miss Lippincott?"
"'Tween you and me, Doctor, I got it into my head that she liked Sam Brown. Ye see, there was a man told me that he seed him and her kiss, right afore Judge Sherman's gate. Wall, this feller was allers puttin' me up to think that Orrecta was flirty like, and I was jest fool enough to believe him, so I jest packed up my duds and cum out West, with Dr. DeWolf. He'd been teasing me to cum 'long with him fur some time. Ye see, I'd allers been his gardener, ever since he was married. Miss DeWolf that's dead now, she sot heaps by me. 'Now, Philip,' says she—ye see my real name is Philip Roarer—'we can't get 'long without you, fur to milk the cow and make the garden'. I could see that her eyes was a leetle watery like, and I knew that she hated to cum off alone, with the Doctor, 'cause sometimes when he got a leetle tight, he didn't treat her nun too well. But the Doctor got 'long fust rate, when he fust got here; he didn't drink much and he made heaps of money, he and a crony of hisn, named Squire Tinknor. He lives in St. Paul now, and does the Doctor's business fur him yet. Ye see, Squire Tinknor can drink a barrel of liquor and not feel it, but the Doctor gets crazy enough, on nothing but lager. 'Tween you an' me, that old brewery in the holler has played the devil with the Doctor. I told Hank Glutter how it would be, when he fust sot up the saloon in't. Sez I, 'Mr. Glutter, I'd rather you'd chop this ere right hand of mine right off, than to place that are temptation afore Dr. DeWolf.' Sez he, 'What's the harm of a leetle beer?' Sez I, 'Ain't you goin' to sell nothin' else?' Sez he, 'O, I may keep a few liquors jest for variety.' Seems zif I should sink when he said that are, but I jest felt zif I couldn't gin up, so I let right into him. It didn't do no kinder good though. Sez he, 'If I don't sell it somebody else will, and I might as will make money on it as anybody.' Well, the long and short of it is, Doctor, he has got rich on't and now, 'tween you and me, he's kinder hanging 'round the honey, but I guess he'll git his walkin' papers afore long; ye see, the honey she's alive, every inch on her."
CHAPTER VI.
The Saloon Keeper—Comforting Reflections—The Unwelcome Call—Diabolical Plotting.
