Gabe was our neighbor and he was a speck dull. He was a lonely old bachelor who had a hankering to get married. The tale was that when he was a young fellow he was tied to his Ma's apron strings. Gabe's Ma didn't like it when he started courting girls. Sometimes he brought them home and his Ma managed to chase them all off. After his mother died Gabe was lonely. He worked around town as a handyman but spent most of his spare time hanging around our house. Gabe was a nice guy but Mama got downright tired of him.

"I swan," she said. "I wish Gabe would get a wife. I can't get nothing done with him here crying on my shoulder all the time.'

"Maybe he's waiting for you to grow up Sarah," Oscar teased. "Then he'll marry you."

"Me and Gabe?" I hollered. "He's almost as old as Papa. I wouldn't marry him."

"Might be your last chance," Oscar laughed and I smacked him with the fly swatter.

"Let's try to get someone for Gabe so he'll have a wife," Mama said. Oscar and I made suggestions but Mama didn't like any of our ideas.

"I know," she said. "Liza Klussman was telling me about her niece in Rocky Ford. She was married but her man was killed a couple of years ago and she has two little ones. She wants to get married again."

"Maybe she can wait for you to grow up, Oscar," I said, and he swatted me.

"Now you two cut that out," Mama said. "How can we get them together?"

"I hear tell that Liza's niece is ugly as a mud corral," Sam said.

"Well, Gabe's no beauty either," Mama said.

"They should make a good pair." Sam laughed.

"I know." Mama tried to ignore Sam. "Watermelon Day is coming up. I'll tell Liza to have her niece there and we'll take Gabe on the train with us so we they can meet."

"Guess you think you're cupid." Father commented when he heard the plans.

"Well, if I don't do something I'll never get any work done around here," Mama said. "He hangs around here worse than a pack of fleas hang on a dog."

So it was all set. Mama warned us not to tell Gabe what she was planning.

"He's so backward," she said. "He might run away. Don't breathe a word."

"Maybe he don't want a couple of kids," Oscar said.

"Gabe loves the kids in church," I said.

Mama worked it all out and Gabe rode the train with us to Watermelon Day in Rocky Ford. We met Liza and her niece, Belva at the gate. Belva had two little tykes with her. They were four and five years old. Sam had heard right, Belva was a might bit ugly. Gabe didn't talk to her much and I figured he wasn't interested in Belva. They weren't even walking together. It gave me a good scare, I was afraid he was waiting for me to grow up and I'd have him on my hands so I decided to give the romance a shove. I slowed down so I could discuss the situation with Gabe.

"Gabe," I said in a low tone, "I think Belva likes you."

"Ah," was all he answered.

"Doesn't she have pretty eyes?" I asked.

"Hadn't noticed," he muttered.

"Gabe," I chided, "didn't you see how she was smiling at you?"

"I'm awful old," he said as he mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. "She does have pretty eyes," he admitted.

I hurried to catch up with Mama and Belva.

"Gabe thinks you have pretty blue eyes," I told her in a low tone.

"Oh, my," she twittered coyly, "he is so nice and look how good he is with the children."

"He's a touch bashful," Mama added.

It took a few more tries but between Mama and I we got them walking together.

By the end of the day Gabe and Belva were chattering away like a couple of squirrels. Gabe was walking tall and straight and Belva was looking at him like she thought he was the answer to her prayers.

We figured we would have a romance on our hands, but it was a strain because Belva lived in Rocky Ford and that was a long way off, ten miles.

Mama suggested Gabe and Belva could carry on a friendship by writing letters but Gabe didn't have much education and had never learned to read or write.

"How can I court Miss Klussman when I can't write?" Gabe asked. "She swept me plumb off my feet but I can't figure out how to court her. I sure have a hankering for that girl. She has such handsome eyes."

Gabe moped around and looked melancholy for a few days, but one day he came over with a big smile on his face.

"You look happy," Mama told him.

"Yes," he said. "I got it all figured out. I know how I can court Miss Klussman."

"How?" I asked.

"Sarah," he said, "will you write a letter to Miss Klussman for me?"

"Why sure Gabe," I said. "Did you bring your stationary?"

He gave me a piece of paper and an old stubby lead pencil.

"You've got learning," he said admiringly. "I never had time to go to school. I don't want Miss Klussman to know that I'm a dummy." I didn't comment on that.

"Okay," I said. "What do you want me to say?"

"Oh," he said, "just say 'Dear Miss Klussman, How are you? I am fine."

"Well, all right," I said. "Is that all?"

"That's plenty."

I wrote a letter on the paper he gave me. I added a few sweet things like how pretty her eyes were and how glad he was they had met, just to be sure the romance would keep up steam.

Belva wrote to Gabe and he brought the letter over so we could read it to him.

"Why can't I teach you to read and write?" I asked.

"I'm not smart enough," he said. "Miss Klussman is powerfully smart. Maybe she could teach me." It must have been love because Gabe got a dumber than usual look on his face.

One day he came over and asked me if I would write a letter to Miss Klussman. He had a worse layout than ever. I decided I'd just use some of my own stationary.

I says, "Well, what do you want me to write?"

He said, "Oh, just fix it up to suit yourself."

So I did. I wrote clever, romantic things like the ones that I read in the books that I got at the Woodruff Memorial library. Mama didn't know I had been reading them. She would have said it wasn't fit for a girl my age to read.

I guess the letters I wrote were good enough because Gabe started saving up his money so he could go to Rocky Ford to see Belva. He and Belva were married about a year later and we all went to the Methodist Church in Rocky Ford to see the wedding. If Belva was surprised when she discovered that Gabe didn't know how to read or write she didn't let on. Maybe she figured you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.