"But now," Miss Joey proceeded, sinking her voice almost to a whisper,
"I want to fix your thoughts on somethin' dark-colored, in a vial, that
she fetched across the entry for him to take."
"Help him any?"
"Can't say it did, and can't say it didn't. But ever sence that, David's
ben a different man. He's follered that gal about as if there'd ben a
chain a-drawin' him,--as if she'd flung a lassoo round his neck, and was
pullin' him along. See him, and you see her. If she wants huckleberries,
she has huckleberries. If she wants violets, she has violets. See him
now, lookin' down at her through the branches. And see her, turnin' her
face up towards him. He's nigh upon addled. Shouldn't wonder this
minute, if he didn't know enough to keep his hold o' the branch. Does
that seem like our David, Mr. Lane, a bashful young feller like him?"
"Bashful or bold makes no difference," replied the old man. "Love'll go
where't is sent,--likely to hit one as t' other. And when they're hit,
you can't tell 'em apart.--Why, Joey," he continued, suddenly quickening
his tone, "there's the Doctor's boy, as I'm alive!"
Dr.
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