"I—I'm suah in love with yuh, Sally! That's what's the matter with me. Now, don't you laugh—I mean it."
"Well, my soul!" exclaimed the practical Sally, "don't let it take such a hold on you, Ike. Other men have been in love before—or thought they was—and it ain't given 'em a conniption fit."
"I got it harder than most men," Ike was able to articulate. "Why, Sally, I love you so hard that it makes me ache!"
The red-haired school-mistress looked at him for a silent moment. Her eyes were pretty hard at first; but finally a softer light came into them and a faint little blush colored her face.
"Well, Ike! is that all you've got to say?" she asked.
"Why—why, Sally! I got lots to say, only it's plugged up and I can't seem to get it out," stammered Ike. "I got five hundred head o' steers, and I've proven on a quarter-section of as nice land as there is in this State and there's a good open range right beside it yet"
"I never did think I'd marry a bunch o' steers," murmured Sally.
"Why—why, Sally, punchin' cattle is about all I know how to do well," declared Bashful Ike. "But you say the word and I'll try any business you like better."
"I wouldn't want you to change your business,
