Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 218: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

500 left hand—until he caught young Palley’s gtin. ‘ This may hint at me getting some money out of yoah fathuh right soon, Thomas,” was his apologetic explanation. _ But the boy went again at the more vital matter on hand. “I’m asking, colonel, man to man, why yo’-all won’t consent to our marriage.” “ An’ I’m demanding, suh, that yo’ tell me yoah hiding-place fo’ the jugs of whisky yo’-all keep bringing mto Callabee!” “ Couldn’t tell you, sir, without lying to you. Haven’t ever lied much, an’ don’t want to commence ndw.” “Well, suh, when I find it at last yo all will wish yo’d told me fuhst.”’ ‘““Is it because of the moonshinin’ I can’t have Nancy?” “No, suh. Not that—alt’gethuh. ” <¢ Then what?” “‘T reckon I’ve got my reason, suh,”’ said Trahern Blalock doggedly. “A reason that can’t be told ain’t a rea- son!” Tom retorted. ‘“ Don’t believe vo’-all got a reason—’ ceptin’ contrary ones, suh!”’ Young Palley’s voice kept climbing high- er, the €olonel’s staying in tune—and the eavesdropper gobbled up every word. In telling the details of that quarrel to the first person he met, the. objector made Blalock out as mostly to blame, relating how the col’nel had switched back to his precious feud for the purpose of calling down gen- tlemanly anathema upon the Palleys, past and present—but that he seemed to run skort of wind and he’d rushed into the ‘house before getting to the next family crop. Nancy had met her dad storming in. She took his hat off and hung it up till morning, she deftly extracted the re mains of a mangled cigar and presented a new, long one to his lips, and she kissed the bridge of his prominent nose; ‘then she | took him back out on the porch to let nature finish cooling him. All he had said so far was: “ Yo’ always know just what to do, Nancy, deah!”’ The colonel drew his daughter down upon the arm of his big wicker rocker—and she retailed the eventful, the odd and beautiful, of that especial day. He had heard most of it already, but somehow it all sounded new when Nancy told it; her mother had had the same gift. “When’s yo’ own time coming, deah?” he finally asked. “e To-morrow night, dad—in the church- yard. “In the—the what?” “ Going to give a party. I’ve hired both the jitneys.” ‘Want me?” “* Of course.” Emphasized with a kiss. “* Mustn’t keep me too long. I’ve got to cut timbuh t’-morruh night—cooluh at night, and the wood don’t snap’so much in burning aftuhwahds if yo’-all cuts it when the moon’s in the Lion.” He waved his hand toward Luna, a thin crescent -sailing over his gum-trees. “‘ Got to haul it to mah- ket next mo’ning—We’n’sday.” “Oh, my party won't take long; it mustn’t. And we're going to need the moon, too. ” ““Need the moon fo’ a pahty in the chu’chyahd?” Her father gazed at her quizzically. “‘ What so’t of a pahty?” “ Can’t tell you that, dad. The secret is half of it.” “Seems as if yo’ might tell me, deah, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘since ev’rybody’s telling ev’rything else— and since it was all my idea in the fuhst place.” “Was it, dad?” Nancy asked him mean- ingly, and vanished. Her way of leaving such points to him was better than contra- dicting. “Why, no—it wasn’, eithuh, come to think,” said the deserted colonel, answer- ing himself aloud. “ It was Nancy’s idea— odd and beautiful—she whispuh’d it to me.” He sighed as he took a fresh grip on his cigar. ‘“-Wonduh if Ill evuh have just one idea of my own!” Evening of Tuesday, July 29, and Calla- bee awarded its mental gold medal to Miss Nancy Blalock. And quite early in that evening it dawned upon her father that a churchyard hadn’t necessarily meant the graveyard. Nancy gave her party just in front of the church—to the old ladies of the town- ship over seventy-five. The jitneys had to make three trips each, the seventh old - _ ol eu | Frc KO mit : J GED) THE O ATE UN