u and your family take supper
with me?"

Billy and his mother exchanged doubtful glances; for the past three
hours everything had been so strange and unusual that they were
bewildered.

"You see, we will go right over to Bond's and have something to eat
before you go home," urged Redding.

Mrs. Wiggs was in great doubt, but one of the little girls pulled
her skirt and said, in pleading tones: "Ma, let's do!" and Billy
was already casting longing eyes at the big restaurant across the
way. She had not the heart to refuse. As they were crossing the
street, Asia stopped suddenly and cried:

"Ma, there's the 'Christmas Lady' gittin' in that hack! She seen
us! Look!"

But before they could turn the carriage door had slammed.

Redding took them into a small apartment, curtained off from the
rest of the cafe, so that only the waiters commented on the strange
party. At first there was oppressive silence; then the host turned
to Europena and asked her what she liked best to eat. A moment of
torture ensued for the small lady, during which she nearly twisted
her thumb from its socket, then she managed to gasp:

"Green pups!"

Mr. Bob laughed. "Why, you little cannibal!" he said. "What on earth
does she mean?"

"Cream puffs," explained Mrs. Wiggs, airily. "She et 'em onct at
Mrs. Reed's, the Bourbon Stock Yard's wife, an' she's been talkin'
'bout 'em ever sence."

After this the ice, while not broken, at least had a crack in it,
and by the time the first course was served Redding was telling them
a funny story, and three of the audience were able to smile. It had
pleased him to order an elaborate supper, and he experienced the
keenest enjoyment over the novelty of the situation. The Wiggses ate
as he had never seen people eat before. "For speed and durability
they break the record," was his mental comment. He sat by and, with
consummate tact, made them forget everything but the good time they
were having.

As the supper progressed, Mrs. Wiggs became communicative. She still
wore her black cotton gloves, and gesticulated with a chicken
croquette as she talked.

"Yes," she was saying, "Jim was one of these handy childern; when he
was eight years old he could peddle as good as you could! I guess
you heard 'bout our roof; ever'body was talkin' 'bout it. Billy is
takin' right after him; do you know what that boy has gone an' done?
He's built his pa a monumint!"

"A monument!" exclaimed Redding.

"Yes, sir, a tombstu