Miss Cornelia, none too hopefully. "But
speaking of the devil, I am positive that Billy Booth is possessed by
him now. Have you heard of Billy's latest performance?"

"No, what was that?"

"He's gone and burned up his wife's new, brown broadcloth suit, that
she paid twenty-five dollars for in Charlottetown, because he declares
the men looked too admiring at her when she wore it to church the first
time. Wasn't that like a man?"

"Mistress Booth IS mighty pretty, and brown's her color," said Captain
Jim reflectively.

"Is that any good reason why he should poke her new suit into the
kitchen stove? Billy Booth is a jealous fool, and he makes his wife's
life miserable. She's cried all the week about her suit. Oh, Anne, I
wish I could write like you, believe ME. Wouldn't I score some of the
men round here!"

"Those Booths are all a mite queer," said Captain Jim. "Billy seemed
the sanest of the lot till he got married and then this queer jealous
streak cropped out in him. His brother Daniel, now, was always odd."

"Took tantrums every few days or so and wouldn't get out of bed," said
Miss Cornelia with a relish. "His wife would have to do all the barn
work till he got over his spell. When he died people wrote her letters
of condolence; if I'd written anything it would have been one of
congratulation. Their father, old Abram Booth, was a disgusting old
sot. He was drunk at his wife's funeral, and kept reeling round and
hiccuping 'I didn't dri--i--i--nk much but I feel a--a--awfully
que--e--e--r.' I gave him a good jab in the back with my umbrella when
he came near me, and it sobered him up until they got the casket out of
the house. Young Johnny Booth was to have been married yesterday, but
he couldn't be because he's gone and got the mumps. Wasn't that like a
man?"

"How could he help getting the mumps, poor fellow?"

"I'd poor fellow him, believe ME, if I was Kate Sterns. I don't know
how he could help getting the mumps, but I DO know the wedding supper
was all prepared and everything will be spoiled before he's well again.
Such a waste! He should have had the mumps when he was a boy."

"Come, come, Cornelia, don't you think you're a mite unreasonable?"

Miss Cornelia disdained to reply and turned instead to Susan Baker, a
grim-faced, kind-hearted elderly spinster of the Glen, who had been
installed as maid-of-all-work at the little house for some weeks.
Susan had been up to the Glen to make a