perton put on a graver look.

"This is all truly very funny," he said, "but, after all, there is
something about it which makes me feel ashamed of myself. Would you
object to take a ride? It is only about eight o'clock. I want to go up
to see old Colbert."

I agreed to go, and we got into a street-car. The Colberts lived in one
of the up-town streets, and Uncle Chipperton had been at their house, on
business.

"I never went to see them in a friendly way before," he said.

It was comforting to hear that this was to be a friendly visit.

When we reached the house, we found the family of three in the parlor.
They had probably had all the dinner they wanted, but they did not look
exactly satisfied with the world or themselves.

"Look here, Colbert," said Uncle Chipperton, after shaking hands with
Mrs. Colbert, "why didn't you go to my dinner?"

"Well," said Mr. Colbert, looking him straight in the face, "I thought
I'd better stay where I was. I didn't want to make any trouble, or pick
any quarrels. I didn't intend to keep my wife and son away; but they
wouldn't go without me."

"No, indeed," said Mrs. Colbert.

"Oh, well!" said Uncle Chipperton, "you needn't feel bad about it. I
didn't go, myself."

At this, they all opened their eyes as wide as the law allowed.

"No," he continued, "I didn't want to make any disturbance, or
ill-feeling, and so I didn't go, and my wife and daughter didn't want to
go without me, and so they didn't go, and I expect Will's father and
mother didn't care to be on hand at a time when bad feeling might be
shown, and so they didn't go. There was no one there but Will. He ate
all of the dinner that was eaten. He went straight through it, from one
end to the other. And there was no ill-feeling, no discord, no cloud of
any kind. All perfectly harmonious, wasn't it, Will?"

"Perfectly," said I.

"I just wish I had known about it," said Rectus, a little sadly.

"And now, Mr. Colbert," said Uncle Chipperton, "I don't want this to
happen again. There may be other reunions of this kind, and we may want
to go. And there ought to be such reunions between families whose sons
and daughter have been cast away together, on a life-raft, in the middle
of the ocean."

"That's so," said Mrs. Colbert, warmly.

"I thought they were _saved_ on a life-raft," said old Colbert, dryly.
"And I didn't know it was in the middle of the ocean."

"Well, fix that as you please," said Uncle Chipperton. "What I