curious shape.

"Is that you, Sam?" she said.

Mr. Warden stopped, close by. "Yes'm," he
replied. "I'm a-gittin' out de hose to lay de dus'
yonnah." He stretched an arm along the cross-
bar of the reel, relaxing himself, apparently, for
conversation. "Y'all done change consid'able,
Miss Airil," he continued, with the directness of one
sure of privilege.

"You think so, Sam?"

"Yes'm. Ev'ybody think so, _I_ reckon. Be'n
a tai'ble lot o' talkum 'bout you to-day. Dun'no'
how all dem oth' young ladies goin' take it!" He
laughed with immoderate delight, yet, as to the
volume of mere sound, discreetly, with an eye to
open windows. "You got 'em all beat, Miss Airil!
Dey ain' be'n no one 'roun' dis town evah got in a
thousum mile o' you! Fer looks, an' de way you
walk an' ca'y yo'self; an' as fer de clo'es--name o'
de good lan', honey, dey ain' nevah SEE style befo'!
My ole woman say you got mo' fixin's in a minute
dan de whole res' of 'em got in a yeah. She say
when she helpin' you onpack she must 'a' see mo'n
a hunerd paihs o' slippahs alone! An' de good
Man knows I 'membuh w'en you runnin' roun'
back-yods an' up de alley rompin' 'ith Joe Louden,