you."

"That's good. I'll take your togs out and dry 'em in the kitchen. Don't
be scared; I'll be right back."

In the kitchen he sorted the wet garments and hung them about the
cook stove. It was a strange occupation for him and he shook his head
whimsically as he completed it. Then he took a flat iron, one of Mrs.
Beasley's purchases, from the shelf in the closet and put it in the oven
to heat. Soon afterwards he returned to the bedroom, bearing the iron
wrapped in a dish towel.

"My ma always used to put a hot flat to my feet when I was a young one
and got chilled," he explained. "I ain't used one for some time, but I
guess it's a good receipt. How do you feel now? Any more icicles?"

"No, sir. I'm ever so warm. Isn't this a nice bed?"

"Think so, do you? Glad of it. Well, now, I'm goin' to leave you in it
while I step down street and see about havin' your box sent for. I'll be
back in a shake. If anybody comes to the door while I'm gone don't you
worry; let 'em go away again."

He put on his hat and left the house, walking rapidly, his head down and
his hands in his pockets. At times he would pause in his walk, whistle,
shake his head, and go on once more. Josiah Dimick met him, and his
answers to Josiah's questions were so vague and irrelevant that Captain
Dimick was puzzled, and later expressed the opinion that "Whit's cookin'
must be pretty bad; acted to me as if he had dyspepsy of the brain."

Captain Cy stopped at Mr. Lumley's residence to leave an order for the
delivery of the box. Then he drifted into Simmons's and accosted Alpheus
Smalley.

"Al," he said, "what's good for a cold?"

"Why?" asked Mr. Smalley, in true Yankee fashion. "You got one?"

"Hey? Oh, yes! Yes, I've got one." By way of proof he coughed until the
lamp chimneys rattled on the shelf.

"Judas! I should think you had! Well, there's 'Pine Bark Oil' and
'Sassafras Elixir' and two kinds of sass'p'rilla--that's good for most
everything--and--Is your throat sore?"

"Hey? Yes, I guess so."

"Don't you KNOW? If you've got sore throat there ain't nothin' better'n
'Arabian Balsam.' But what in time are you doin' out in this drizzle
with a cold and no umbrella? Do you want to--"

"Never mind my umbrella. I left it in the church entry t'other Sunday
and somebody got out afore I did. This 'Arabian Balsam'--seems to me I
remember my ma's usin' that on me. Wet a rag with it, don't you, and tie
it round your neck?"

"Yup. Be sure and us