"No; I met one young lady dressed in black that I thought I had seen before somewhere, and her spark too; but they were too busy to see me. She looked more coy and shamefaced, like our country gals, than any of them."
"How did the gentleman bear himself? was he polite and respectful in his carriage?" said Lamar, smiling, and looking at Chevillere.
"Oh, yes! he bowed his head close down to the bonnet of the pretty little lady, and walked that way all through the street, as if he was afraid to lose so much as a word; sometimes she seemed to be just ready to cry, and looked pale and frightened. I rather suppose her old dad's a little sour or cross, maybe; but for all I couldn't help thinkin what a clever nice young couple they would make to stand up before the parson."
Chevillere attempted reserve of manner, but blushed and smiled in spite of himself, as he asked Damon, "Not your chaw-tobacco parson, I hope?"
"And why not? what if he would roll his chaw-tobacco into one cheek at you, while he coupled you up with the other? I'll be bound you'd look at somebody else's pretty cheeks more nor you would at the parson's chaw-tobacco; besides, what harm is there in a parson's chawin? I know an old one who would no more git up into his pulpit of a Sunday without a good smart plug in his mouth, than I would strike my own brother when he's down. I've seen him afore now, when his wind held out longer than his tobacco, run his finger first into one jacket-pocket, and then into the other, and at last he'd draw a little piece of pigtail, just up to the top of the water (as you may say), and then he'd let it go again."
"Some virtuous shame, in view of the congregation, I suppose," said Chevillere.
"Yes, that was it; but I never heard any of the sarmont after the old boy's ammunition run out."
"Why, what had his tobacco to do with your listening?"
"A great deal; no sooner would the old feller begin to fumble in his pockets, than my hand always run into mine, of its own accord, and lugged out a chunk of a twist just ready to hand to the old man, and then when I'd find it couldn't be, I naturally took a plug myself, and chawed for the old boss till his wind flagg'd."
"Or, in other words, his desire for the weed made you desire it, to cure which you chewed for yourself, and flattered your conscience all the while that you were rendering him a service," said Chevillere.