"
"Who is the young woman?" I asked.
"I ain't mentionin' names," Perry replied, "and I ain't givin' the name
of the other man; but I have an idee you could guess if you kep' at it."
Our valley does not bloom with beautiful young women. We always have a
few, but those few can be counted on one's fingers. Our valley does
not number among its men many who can supplement their sentimental
attentions with gifts of books. I knew of one. So it did not require
much guessing on my part to divine the cause of Perry's heart-sickness;
but as long as the other persons in his drama were anonymities, he
would speak freely, so I relieved him by declaring solemnly that never
in the world could I guess. I had always supposed him a lover of all
women, a slave of none.
Perry smiled.
"I have kep' a good deal of company," he said. "On account of my
fiddlin', and singin', and recitin' I've always had things pretty much
my own way. It's opposition that's ruination. That's what shatters a
man's heart and takes all his sperrit.
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