"The mountains ever call to their children," murmured Mrs. Blaylock.
Of course, Mrs. Blaylock would not personally serve behind the counter.
"Those years," said Mrs. Blaylock, "in Holly Springs were long, long, long.
Mrs. Blaylock, blushing like a girl, shook her curl and gave the Colonel an arch, reproving tap.
"No, sir," said Colonel Blaylock, pausing to arrange the queen's wrap. "I did not invest in Okochee.
Mrs. Blaylock, sir, is one of those fortunate higher spirits whose mission it is to make the flowers grow.
"Our home, sir," said Colonel Blaylock, removing his wide-brimmed, rather shapeless black felt hat, "is in Holly Springs--Holly Springs, Georgia.
Mrs. Blaylock turned a glance of speaking tenderness upon the Colonel, fingered for a moment the silvery curl that drooped upon her bosom, then looked again toward the mountains.