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Updated: May 10, 2025
Assembled at the stile-block in front of him, the people invariably lined up as a long, gaunt farmer, a thin, flat-chested woman, a troop of dusty children, and a yellow dog. "Yass, I cand tell you. It's six sights and a right smart chanst f'm here to Poetical, stranger," the long, gaunt farmer had invariably drawled, with more accommodation than information.
This was intolerable to Betty's lover, and, after tossing all night in a tumult of indignation, he again sought her father. When Abner reached Oaklands next morning, Gilcrest, just returned from a ride to the lower farm, was standing on the stile-block, and a negro boy was leading his horse toward the stables.
Each time the house beyond the stile-block had looked miserably uninviting, a plough on the front porch, harness on the porch posts; all around the house the yard litter of cheap farm life, a broken-down harrow, broken-backed furniture, straw, corn-shucks, ghosts of past winters and past summers on the farm, that had shuffled out there and died there; each time the cleared patches beyond the house had looked lean; each time the native had been sallow and toil-worn; but each time that welcome word had been a finely perfect thing, good to hear.
But after the encounter at the stile-block he informed Rogers of his engagement to Betsy and of her father's opposition and bitter enmity. Rogers accordingly went to Oaklands. Several days had elapsed since Abner had been so grossly insulted.
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