Margaret's keen ears heard a halloa at the gate. "Thar's the preacher," she said. "An' goodness me, we ain't got a bite fitten for a preacher to eat." Jasper got up to meet the minister. "Fetch him in anyhow, Jasper. 'Pears like we ain't never fixed for nuthin'."
Jasper went out and into the dining-room conducted the horse-trading preacher. He shook hands with everyone, sat down, and, hungry from his ride, began to help himself. "Just married a couple over in the Spice Bush neighborhood," said he, receiving from Jasper a slab of the brown bacon. "Yes, the widow Doxey and old John Towson. This is good meat, brother Starbuck—smoked with hickory wood, I reckon."
"Yes, hick'ry an' sass'frass. I reckon you pick up a good many weddin's along about this time of the year."
"Well, a pretty fair sprinkling."
"So Miz Doxey finally cotch old John," said Jasper and his wife declared she wouldn't make light of it. "Light of it? She weighs two forty if she weighs a ounce. Oh, I knowd John would git her as soon as I seed him a puttin' them green blinds on his house. Ma'm, nothin' round here ketches a widow woman like green blinds. Swoppin' any hosses lately, Brother Fetterson?"
"Traded off a nag yesterday. Didn't know but I might strike a swop with you to-day."
"Why," Margaret spoke up, knowing that in the combat of a horse trade, time would sail like a summer's cloud over the heads of the two men, "you haven't come to trade stock, but to marry these folks."
"Oh, that won't take long," Brother Fetterson replied. "Have you got that sorrel yet, Brother Starbuck?"
"She's out thar in the lot now, as slick as a mole."
"This is to be a double wedding," said Mrs. Mayfield, "and on the hill-top, among the vines."