"
He raised his eyebrows and gave a whistle.
"That is somethin'! And which is it?"
"What a question! David, of course. Who else could it be?"
"Well, he's the best," he spoke slowly, with considering phlegm. "He's
a first-rate boy as far as he goes."
"I don't think that's a very nice way to speak of him. Can't you say
something better?"
The old man looked over the mules' backs for a moment of inward
cogitation. He was not surprised at the news but he was surprised at
something in his Missy's manner, a lack of the joyfulness, that he,
too, had thought an attribute of all intending brides.
"He's a good boy," he said thoughtfully. "No one can say he ain't.
But some way or other, I'd rather have had a bigger man for you, Missy."
"Bigger!" she exclaimed indignantly. "He's nearly six feet. And girls
don't pick out their husbands because of their height."
"I ain't meant it that way. Bigger in what's in him--can get hold o'
more, got a bigger reach."
"I don't know what you mean. If you're trying to say he's not got a
big mind you're all wrong. He knows more than anybody I ever met
except father.
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