"I reckon I'se try ter git a wink ob slepe, Kern," responded Uncle Sheba
plaintively. "My narbes been so shook up dat my rheumatiz will be po'ful
bad for a spell."

Kern knew the futility of further words, and also betook himself to rest.

With Aun' Sheba, policy had taken the place of passion. Through a
knot-hole in her cabin she had seen her husband admitted to her
son-in-law's dwelling, and so her mind was at rest. "Unc," she muttered,
"forgits his 'sper'ence at de prar-meetin's bery easy, but he mus' have a
'sper'ence to-night dat he won't forgit. I neber so riled in my bawn days.
Ef he tinks I can sit heah and see him go'mandizin' when my honey lam'
Mara hungry, he'll fin' out."

Before the dawn on the following day, Uncle Sheba had had time for many
second thoughts, and when his wife opened the door he brought in plenty of
kindlings and wood. Aun' Sheba accepted these marks of submission in grim
silence, resolving that peace and serenity should come about gradually.
She relented so far, however, as to give him an extra slice of bacon for
breakfast, at which token of returning toleration Uncle Sheba took heart
again. Having curtly told him to clear the table, Aun' Sheba proceeded to
make from the finest of flour the delicate cakes which she always sold
fresh and almost warm from her stove, and before starting out on her
vending tour of the streets, the store-room was locked against the one
burglar she feared.




CHAPTER IV