"It will be if I write your name on it and describe the land."
"En what's de fee fer dat?"
"Only twelve dollars; you can take it now or wait until we come again. There's no particular hurry about this. The wise man, though, leaves nothing for to-morrow that he can carry with him to-day."
"I takes de deed right now, gemmen," said Aleck, eagerly counting out the remaining twelve dollars. "Fix 'im up for me."
The surveyor squatted in the field and carefully wrote the document.
They went on their way rejoicing, and old Aleck hurried into Piedmont with the consciousness of lordship of the soil. He held himself so proudly that it seemed to straighten some of the crook out of his bow legs.
He marched up to the hotel where Margaret sat reading and Marion was on the steps playing with a setter.
"Why, Uncle Aleck!" Marion exclaimed, "I haven't seen you in a long time."
Aleck drew himself to his full height—at least, as full as his bow legs would permit, and said gruffly:
"Miss Ma'ian, I axes you to stop callin' me 'uncle'; my name is Mr. Alexander Lenoir"
"Until Aunt Cindy gets after you," laughed the girl. "Then it's much shorter than that, Uncle Aleck."
He shuffled his feet and looked out at the square unconcernedly.
"Yaas'm, cat's what fetch me here now. I comes ter tell yer Ma ter tell dat 'oman Cindy ter take her chillun off
