Judith stood on the platform, swinging her cooler of buttermilk as a signal to the six-thirty trolley to stop and be fed. Thanks to the help of Aunt Mandy and Uncle Billy she had been able to furnish dinners to the motormen and conductors all during the snows of winter and the rains of spring. It was June again, and a year since she began keeping what she called a basket boarding-house. It had proved a profitable business. At the same time she had the undying gratitude and admiration of her boarders.

The trolley stopped and eager hands relieved her of the basket and cooler. A young man swung from the platform of the rear car. Aunt Mandy had fried the chicken and Judith had not had to hurry to meet the six-thirty, so there was no excuse for the heightened color of her cheeks when she saw it was Jeff Bucknor.

“In time to carry your ‘empties’,” he said, 263 taking the basket from her. “Are you glad to see me?”

“Yes!”

“Very glad?”

“Yes, very glad!”

They followed the path through the beech grove. “Can’t we sit down a minute?” begged the young man. Judith complied. It was a venerable tree that sheltered them, with dense foliage on twisted limbs, the lower ones almost touching the ground.

“I so often think of this tree and this mossy bank,” said Jeff. “I have been wondering all the way up from Louisville if you would sit here with me a while.”

“You might have employed your time better.”

“Yes, I might have wondered what you were giving the motormen for dinner. Judith, will you do me a favor? Please put down that milk can. I want to ask you something and I’d be much happier and feel much safer if you’d let the buttermilk can roll down the hill. There now, that’s a good girl!” He gave the can a push and it rolled away, with much banging and jangling.

“First, let me ask your advice. The old men of Ryeville have sent for me to come and talk with them. It seems they want me to run for 264 the office of county attorney. They say they are sure their candidate will be elected and I believe they can control the politics of the county from their hotel porch. I’ll accept their proposition if you will tell me to.”

“Why should I decide?”

“Oh, Judith, can’t you see that life isn’t worth living in Louisville or anywhere else if you are not with me? I have been loving you from the minute I first saw you standing on the platform swinging your milk can. In fact, I believe I have been loving you from the time I saw you on the trolley that day I got back home. Why I didn’t love you when you were such a spunky little kid, tramping around peddling fish and rabbits and blackberries, I don’t know. I must have been a blind fool or I would have. Anyhow, I love the memory of you when you were a little girl. Can’t you care for me a little, Judith?”

“I believe I can.”

“And you won’t mind putting the nor back on your name?”

“No, Jeff. I won’t mind.”

Long the lovers sat under the great tree. The seven o’clock trolley whistled for the next to the last stop, but Jeff and Judith did not hear it. Fortunately for the hungry men, Uncle 265 Billy had seen from afar the young people seeking the shade of the beech grove and when Judith did not return to the house he had astutely reasoned that matters of import were detaining her.

“Here, Mandy, give me that there basket er victuals an’ I’ll make tracks fer the platform. Miss Judy an’ Marse Jeff air a co’tin’ an’ when folks air a co’tin’ time ain’t mo’n the win’ blowin’.”

Miss Ann received the news of the engagement with happy tears and Mrs. Buck said that it was Judith’s business and she had always known what she wanted from the time she was born. If she wanted Jeff Bucknor, Mrs. Buck reckoned it was all right. He seemed a likely enough young man, but she hoped he knew how to save, because Judith did not.

The old men of Ryeville were satisfied when Jeff Bucknor told them he would run for the office of county attorney if they so wished it. At the same time he broke to them the news of his engagement. The veterans exchanged sly glances and laughed delightedly. Little did the young man dream that they had planned this political coup for the sole purpose of bringing to the county the person they considered the most suitable as a husband for their protege. 266

“It was my idee, my idee!” Pete Barnes declared.

The happiest of all the friends of the young couple was old Billy.

“Marse Jeff done tol’ me Miss Ann wa’n’t never ter want an’ now, bless Bob, he’s gonter come an’ live with us-alls an’ look arfter the whole bilin’. I sho’ air glad he’s gonter come here instead er us havin’ ter pick up an’ go wharever he is. The portulac air comin’ up so pretty in my box an’ my jewraniums air a bloomin’, an’ I done made Mandy one willin’ husband, an’ Miss Ann air so brisk an’ happy it would go hard on us all ter have ter be movin’. A ol’ hen air took ter settin’ in the ca’ige which makes it seem moughty homified. I’d sho’ be proud ter think me’n Miss Ann could live ter see the day that little chilluns would be playin’ stage coach an’ injun in Miss Ann’s ol’ rockaway.”