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completely outside of Abner’s social resources. As far as Abner knew, men met only those women who lived on neighbouring farms. A certain inarticulate criticism of such narrow intercourse was beginning to arise in the youth when a voice beside him said, "Hello, Abner, you up to court—what they got you up about?"

Abner took his eyes from the girl with a little start and was forced to stare for a second or two before he recognized the rough-cut face of Zed Parrum. Zed was grinning at the poorhouse youth with a kind of odious admiration on his face that Abner should have so asserted his manhood on the poor farm as to get into trouble before the Grand Jury.

"Nothing brought me up here," denied Abner. "I jest come."

"Uh," Zed nodded and removed his grin. The fellow’s eyes were a little brightened with whisky, but he was sober. He looked around and then said, "That ain’t a bad-lookin’ gal you was kinder noticin’ when I come up."

"Nope," agreed Abner woodenly, but his face warmed and he wished Zed would go on away.

"Know who she is?"

"Nope."

"Want to know her?"

"Nope."

"Well," opined Zed, "I guess you ralely air too young to begin sparkin’ yet, but that shore is a purty gal. She'll make a high-steppin’ woman when she gits broke to harness."

Abner replied nothing at all to this.

Zed was not discouraged by taciturnity; it was usual among the hill folk. He struck off on another tack,

"I hear the Gran’ Jury got a true bill agin Solon Askew fer public drunkenness and disturbin’ public worship." He paused a moment and then added, "Solon shore raised hell at Big Bethel over on Moccasin. I was with him—tryin’ to ca’m him."

This was interesting; there was a certain glow of adventure