I’ll hang that hickory up
In spite of his laughing contempt of danger, she trembled as she saw him ready to go out again; she wished to accompany him on his round of observation, but he scouted the idea, although it pleased him. Standing in the door, she strained her eyes and listened breathlessly. He soon returned and said, "They’ve all had enough. We won’t be disturbed again."
He saw that her nerves needed quieting, and he set about the task with such simple tact as he possessed. His first step was to light his pipe in the most nonchalant manner, and then he burst out laughing. "I’ll hang that hickory up. It has done too good service to be put to common use again. Probably you never heard of a skimelton, Alida. Well, they are not so uncommon in this region. I suppose I’ll have to own up to taking part in one myself when I was a young chap. They usually are only rough larks and are taken good-naturedly. I’m not on jesting terms with my neighbors, and they had no business to come here, but I wouldn’t have made any row if they hadn’t insulted you."
Her head bowed very low as she faltered, "They’ve heard everything."
He came right to her and took her hand. "Didn’t I hear everything before they did?"
"Yes."
"Well, Alida, I’m not only satisfied with you, but I’m very grateful to you. Why shouldn’t I be when you are a good Christian woman? I guess I’m the one to be suited, not Oakville. I should be as reckless as the devil if you should go away from me. Don’t I act like a man who’s ready to stand up for and protect you?"
"Yes, too ready. It would kill me if anything happened to you on my account."
"Well, the worst would happen," he said firmly, "if we don’t go right on as we’ve begun. If we go quietly on about our own affairs, we’ll soon be let alone and that’s all we ask."