"Yas," chuckled the old man at the way his son was drifting into the situation—thinking about granny!—"but Sally owns the farm!"
"Uhu!" said Seffy, whatever that might mean.
"And Sally's the boss!"
Silence.
"And granny won't object to any one Sally marries, anyhow—she dassent! She'd git licked!"
"Who said anything about marrying?"
Seffy was speciously savage now—as any successful wooer might be.
"Nobody but me, sank you!" said the old man with equally specious meekness. "Look how she ken jump a six-rail fence. Like a three-year filly! She's a nice gal, Seffy—and the farms j'ine together—her pasture-field and our corn-field. And she's kissing her hand backwards! At me or you, Seffy?"
Seffy said he didn't know. And he did not return the kiss—though he yearned to.
"Well, I bet a dollar that the first initial of his last name is Sephenijah P. Baumgartner, Junior."