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Cain was not afflicted with so laborious an occupation. Adam supported himself and Eve, and all Cain had to do was to provide himself, and perhaps Abel, with vegetables. Nor could Abel's occupation have been light, for flocks and herds require a good deal of attendance, and in those early days they needed vigilant protection against the ravages of wild beasts.

There the noise bewildered him an instant, and his eyes went blind while he grasped Big Abel's sleeve. "Wait a minute, I can't see," he said. "Now, that's right, go on. By George, it's bedlam turned loose, let's get out of it!" "Dis away, Marse Dan, dis away, step right hyer," urged Big Abel, as he slipped through the hurrying crowd of fugitives which packed the street.

If you write history, you must be tremendously fair and keep your own little whims out of it." After their meal Estelle smoked a cigarette, much to Abel's interest. "I never knew a girl could smoke," he said. "Why not? Would you like one? I don't suppose a cigarette once in a way can hurt you." "I've smoked thousands," he told her. "And a pipe, too, for that matter. I smoked a cigar once.

So it was that when Cassy's letter came, her breast seemed to grow warmer, and swell with longing to see the wife of her nephew, who had such a bad reputation in Abel's eyes, and to see George's little boy, who was coming too. After all, whatever Cassy was, she was the mother of Abel's son's son; and Aunt Kate was too old and wise to be frightened by tales told of Cassy or any one else.

When I'm alone with you I have to play one way; and when Janet comes over here to listen I feel quite another way not so thrilling, but happier and lonelier. And that day when Jessie Blair was here listening I felt as if I wanted to laugh and sing as if the violin wanted to laugh and sing all the time." The strange, golden gleam flashed through old Abel's sunken eyes.

At Abel's entrance, the old man stopped chuckling and inquired in an interested tone, "Did you buy that ar steer, Abel?" "Not yet, I'm to think it over and let Jim Bumpass know." "Thar never was sech a man for steers," remarked grandmother, contemptuously. "Here he's still axin' about steers when he can't hist himself out of his cheer.

He bowed in reply to the little speech of Abel's, as if he desired to return thanks for the combined intellects that had been complimented.

No listener in the gardens of Stamboul could have found more rapture in a tale heard amidst the perfume of roses and the voices of birds and tinkling of fountains than Elbridge in following Abel's narrative, as they sat there in the aromatic ammoniacal atmosphere of the stable, the grinding of the horses' jaws keeping evenly on through it all, with now and then the interruption of a stamping hoof, and at intervals a ringing crow from the barn-yard.

"Well, don't you go a-carryin' on that way," said Sam, still unmollified and eyeing her threateningly. "You don't lay a finger on the clock," said Susan Vacher with spirit. "Who told you that clock was Abel's? It's a-been there ever since my mother's time, and I've a-wound it up myself every Saturday night."

He heard of that kindly, rollicking early life, half wild and wholly good-humoured, in which the eldest male Lightfoot had squandered his time and his fortune. Why, was not the old coach itself but an existing proof of Big Abel's stories?