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"For speed and durability they break the record," was his mental comment. He sat by and, with consummate tact, made them forget everything but the good time they were having. As the supper progressed, Mrs. Wiggs became communicative. She still wore her black cotton gloves, and gesticulated with a chicken croquette as she talked.
For three days there had been no bread in the house, and a scanty supply of potatoes and beans had been their only nourishment. Mrs. Wiggs hastened to where Jim lay on a cot in the corner; his cheeks were flushed, and his thin, nervous fingers picked at the old shawl that covered him.
She had set her heart on the picnic with the same intensity of desire that had characterized her yearning for goodness and affection and curly hair. "I believe there is a tiny speck more blue," she said, scanning the heavens for the hundredth time. "Course there is!" cried Mrs. Wiggs, "an' even if there ain't, we'll have the picnic anyway.
His limbs were already stiffening in death, and the whites of his eyes only were visible. Mrs. Wiggs noted these discouraging symptoms, and saw that violent measures were necessary. "Gether some sticks an' build a fire quick as you kin. I 've got to run over home. Build it right up clost to him, Billy; we 've got to git him het up."
Wiggs commanded and Lucy entreated in vain. Finally Redding drew his chair up in front of the small girl. "Australia, listen to me just a moment, won't you? Please!" She uncovered one eye. "You wouldn't want green hair, would you?" A violent shake of the head.
Wiggs's protestations, he put them in, and repeated Billy's directions as to the exact location of the Cabbage Patch. "My, my, ain't this nice!" said Mrs. Wiggs, leaning back against carriage cushions for the first time in her life, while Redding lifted Europena in beside her. "We 've seed a good time fer onct in our lives," said Asia.
"Miss Hazy ain't got a thing to do with it," replied Mrs. Wiggs conclusively. At midnight, by the dark of the moon, the unconscious groom was borne out of the Hazy cottage. Mrs. Wiggs carried his head, while Billy Wiggs and Mary and Asia and Chris officiated at his arms and legs. The bride surveyed the scene from the chinks of the upstairs shutters.
"That's right," she was calling excitedly "that's right, Chris Hazy! You kin ketch as good as any of 'em, even if you have got a peg-stick." But when she caught sight of Mary's white, distressed face and Tommy's streaming eyes, she dropped her work and held out her arms. When Mary had finished her story Mrs. Wiggs burst forth: "An' to think I run her up ag'in' this!
If he'll take keer of you, we'll all look after Chris." The wooing had been ideally simple. Mr. Stubbins, with the impetuosity of a new lover, demanded an early meeting. It was a critical time, and the Cabbage Patch realized the necessity of making the first impression a favorable one. Mrs. Wiggs took pictures from her walls and chairs from her parlor to beautify the house of Hazy. Old Mrs.
Wiggs. "Good enough reason: you ain't had a show before. Seems to me you'd be flyin' straight in the face of Providence to refuse a stylish, sweet-smilin' man like that." "He is fine-lookin'," acknowledged Miss Hazy, trying not to appear too pleased; "only I wisht his years didn't stick out so much." Mrs. Wiggs was exasperated. "Lawsee! Miss Hazy, what do you think he'll think of yer figger?
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