Part 23 (1/2)

When young ladies are suspected of being objects of attraction, they think they have a legitimate right to make fun of all newly-developed admirers. They may marry them next year; they perhaps look upon such an event as probable and desirable; but they will laugh about them to-day, alike regardless of the pain they inflict on their victims, should they perceive the ridicule, and careless of the distress of prudent mothers and friends.

Fortunately for Mr. Kerchey, his talent for observation was not remarkable. Phrenologically speaking, his perceptive faculties were small, as well as ”language” and ”concentration.” He was rather flattered by Sarah's attentions than otherwise, and very readily accepted an invitation to prolong his call until evening.

”Would you--ah--would you like to--ride--a little ways--ah--after my pony?” he asked of Sarah, as they were sitting in the parlor, after supper.

”Thank you; but I hardly think I ought to go this evening,” replied the ready girl.

What a relief it was to hear her silver-ringing voice, after Mr.

Kerchey's painful efforts to speak!

”You--you are--you are not--partial to riding--perhaps?”

”Oh, I like it well; but a carriage seems monotonous. Horseback exercises for me!”

”You--like--you like it?”

”Pa.s.sionately!” cried Sarah. ”Oh, how I love a spirited, prancing, bounding pony!”

With his usual labor of enunciation, Mr. Kerchey said that, if she could inform him where a side-saddle was to be obtained, he would be ”most--ah--happy” to give her his best horse to ride that evening. He was five minutes occupied in expressing so much.

”We have a ladies' saddle,” said Sarah; ”but I'd rather not go and ride on Sundays merely for pleasure.”

”Ah! a thousand--ah--pardons!” rejoined Mr. Kerchey, conscious of having committed an indiscretion. ”Some--some other time?”

Sarah excused his freedom, and gayly told him ”almost any time;” and when he finally took his leave, declared that she had ”got well rid of him, at last.”

Meanwhile, Sam had decoyed Willie and Georgie into the orchard, and betrayed them into a game of ball. He made his lame foot a good excuse to sit upon the gra.s.s and enjoy all the ”knocking” or ”licks,” while the boys threw and ”chased.”

”What are you about there, you rogue?” cried Mr. Royden, who had enough natural religious feeling to desire that his family should behave decorously on the Sabbath.

”Oh, nothing much,” said Sam; ”only playing ball a little.”

”Do you know what day it is?”

”It an't Sunday after sundown, is it? You always let us play then.”

”But the sun isn't down yet.”

Mr. Royden pointed to the great luminary which still glowed amid the trees in the west.

”Golly! I thought it was!”

”What a story that is! The sun is nearly half an hour high. You could not help seeing it.”

Sam looked with amazement, squinting across his ball-club, and dodging his head this way and that, as if to a.s.sure himself that it was no delusion.

”It _an't_ down, _is_ it?” he said, honestly. ”I'm a little cross-eyed, I expect; and that's why I couldn't see it before.”