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 counseled her kindly. "No use in hurtin' the man's feelin's, even if he is simple. You can tell him nice and pleasant you won't have him, and I guess you'll git rid of him without sendin' him over there for them fence-riders to shoot."

"I did tell him nice and pleasant, and the darned fool tried to kiss me!"

"Any dog'll try to lick your face if you treat it too well," Tippie said.

"Well, don't you worry, honey, don't you worry. Just so you don't abuse the feller. I ain't goin' to have him abused, after orderin' him by mail that way, or courtin' him by mail, anyhow. You've got to treat him decent. I guess he's got feelin's, like any other man."

"I don't want him hangin' around," Edith complained. "He told Smith Phogenphole he'd come out here to marry me—I could see that in Smith's old dish face as plain as biscuits on a plate."

"You'd better marry him, then, and save your name," said Mrs. Duke, forgetting her counsel of calmness, throwing in a handful of worry seed already sprouted.

"You talk foolish for a woman of your age sometimes, Aunt Lila," Edith reproved her solemnly.

"I'll bet he's got his ear to that keyhole right now," Tippie said, giving the door a savage look.

"He's stretched out with a wet towel over his eyes"

"I'll stretch him out with a glass over his face!" Tippie threatened, squaring around as if to charge the door.