Then a piece of news got 'round that must 'a' made the parson madder 'n a wet hen. Dutchy cleaned the barrels outen his hind room and put up a notice that the next Sunday night he'd give a dance. To finish things, the dawgs had a worse fight'n ever Friday mornin', and the parson's lost two spots and a' ear.
I seen a change in the parson that evenin'. When he come down to the post-office, them brown eyes of his'n was plumb black, and his face was redder'n Sam Barnes's. "Things is goin' to happen," I says to myself, "'r _I_ ain't no judge of beef."
Sunday night, you know, a-course, where the _boys_ went. But I drawed lots with myself and moseyed over to the school-house to keep a bench warm. And here is when that new deal was laid out on the table fer you' little friend Cupid!
I slid in and sit down clost to the door. Church wasn't begun yet, and the dozen 'r so of women was a-waitin' quieter'n mice, some of 'em readin' a little, some of 'em leanin' they haids on the desks, and some of 'em kinda peekin' through they fingers t' git the lay of the land. Wal, _I_ stretched my neck,--and made out t' count more'n fifty spit-balls on a life-size chalk drawin' of the school-ma'am.
Next thing, the parson was in and a-pumpin' away--all fours--at the organ, and the bunch of us was on our feet a-singin'----
"Yield not to tempta-a-ation, 'Cause yieldin' is sin. Each vic'try----"
We'd got about that far when I shut off, all of a suddent, and cocked my haid t' listen. Whose voice was that?--as clear, by thunder! as the bugle up at the Reservation. Wal, sir, I just stood there, mouth wide open.
"Some other to win. Strive manfully onwards----"
Then, I begun t' look 'round. _Couldn't_ be the Kelly kid's maw (I'd heerd her call the hawgs), ner the teacher, ner that tall lady next her, ner----
Spotted the right one! Up clost to the organ was a gal I'd never saw afore. So many was in the way that I wasn't able t' git more'n a squint at her back hair. But, say! it was _mighty_ pretty hair--brown, and all sorta curly over the ears.
When the song was over, ole lady Baker sit down just in front of me; and as she's some chunky, she cut off nearly the hull of my view. "But, Cupid," I says to myself, "I'll bet that wavy hair goes with a sweet face."