The Mountain Maid

As my horse, puffing like a porpoise, drew rao and my buckboard up the last sharp acclivity of the mountain road that led out into the pass betvveen the 6ummits risiug ou eitherhand he would have exercised his privilege and stopped a moment to blow, bnt 100 yards ahead of us I saw a bright bit of calicó gleaming in the moruing sun, and, driving on, I came up to a buxom mountain maid sitting on a stump at a point where a footpath leadiiig up from the valley met the main road. "Good mornin," she said before I had a chance to stop, and there seemed to be an auxious tone in the voice. "Good morning," I responded, and I was on the point of asking her how far it was to the next place, a f a vori te manner of starting a conversation on ïnountain roads, when she broke in. "Air yon a preacher?" she asked. "No, " I answered, with a smilo, for 1 had never been asked that questiou before. "Nor a squire?" "No." "Well, Jim Martin's comin alorig. this away purty soon now, an I wuz jis' axin so's thar wonldn't be uo mistakes." "I don 't qnite understand your explanation, " I said, completely in the dark as to what she was trying to get at. "I reckon not, but I aiu't takiu uo chances, an I thought I'd better stop you while I had the chance." "Thank you, I'm sure, but if yon will teil me -what's up I may be able to know what you are talking about. " She laughed good natnredly. "Well, you see it's this a-way," she said. "Jim, he's beeu a-courtin au a-sparkin round me fer about two ye'r now, an last night he popped an says ez how ef I'd be here this mornin ez he come along we'd go down to Logville an git hitched, an Jim 's mighty onreliable, an like's not ef we got thar an the preacher ner the squire wam 't thar I'd nevcr git Jim in the mind ag'in, so I kinder thought mebbcyou might be the squire er the preacher an I didn't want you to git away. Ef you meet Jim anywheres down the road, don 't teil him you fieen me, fer I don't want Mm akeert. "■