w round it. Then,
twisting it on his wrist, he began to "hang on" with both hands. Dad
struggled and groaned--then broke into a bellow and roared like a wild
beast. But the dentist only said, "Keep him down!" and the others kept
him down.

Dad's neck was stretching like a gander's, and it looked as if his head
would come off. The dentist threw his shoulders into it like a crack
oarsman--there was a crack, a rip, a tear, and, like a young tree
leaving the ground, two huge, ugly old teeth left Dad's jaw on the end
of that sinew.

"Holy!" cried the dentist, surprised, and we stared. Little Bill made
for the teeth; so did Joe, and there was a fight under the table.

Dad sat in a lump on the floor propping himself up with his hands; his
head dropped forward, and he spat feebly on the floor.

The pressman laughed and slapped Dad on the back, and asked "How do you
feel, old boy?" Dad shook his head and spat and spat. But presently
he wiped his eyes with his shirt-sleeve and looked up. The pressman
told Mother she ought to be proud of Dad. Dad struggled to his feet
then, pale but smiling. The pressman shook hands with him, and in no
time Dad was laughing and joking over the operation. A pleased look
was in Mother's face; happiness filled the home again, and we grew
quite fond of that pressman--he was so jolly and affable, and made
himself so much at home, Mother said.

"Now, sit over, and we'll have supper," said Dad, proud of having some
fried steak to offer the visitors. We had killed a cow the evening
before--one that was always getting bogged in the dam and taking up
much of Dad's time dragging her out and cutting greenstuff to keep her
alive. The visitors enjoyed her. The pressman wanted salt. None was
on the table. Dad told Joe to run and get some--to be quick. Joe went
out, but in a while returned. He stood at the door with the hammer in
his hand and said:

"Did you shift the r-r-r-rock-salt from where S-Spotty was lickin' it
this evenin', Dave?"

Dave reached for the bread.

"Don't bother--don't bother about it," said the pressman. "Sit down,
youngster, and finish your supper."

"No bother at all," Dad said; but Joe sat down, and Dad scowled at him.

Then Dad got talking about wheat and wallabies--when, all at once, the
pressman gave a jump that rattled the things on the table.

"Oh-h-h!...I'VE got it now!" he said, dropping his knife and fork and
clapping his hands over his mouth. "Ooh!