ear.

"Comin' here so's you could be company for her! The idea! Good to
herself, ain't she! Godfrey scissors! And Bailey was fool enough to--"

"There, there! Don't let it worry you, Ase. I've about decided what
to say when I let her go. I'll tell her she is gettin' too old to be
slavin' herself to death. You see, I don't want to make the old critter
cry, nor I don't want her to get mad. Judgin' by the way she used to
coax the cat outdoors with the broom handle she's got somethin' of a
temper when she gets started. I'll give her an extry month's wages,
and--"

"You will, hey? You WILL?"

The interruption came from behind the partially closed dining-room door.
Mr. Tidditt sank back in his chair. Captain Cy sprang from his and threw
the door wide open. Behind it crouched Mrs. Deborah Beasley. Her eyes
snapped behind her spectacles, her lean form was trembling all over, and
in her right hand she held a mammoth trumpet, the smaller end of which
was connected with her ear.

"You will, hey?" she screamed, brandishing her left fist, but still
keeping the ear trumpet in place with her right. "You WILL? Well, I
don't want none of your miser'ble money! Land knows how you made it,
anyhow, and I wouldn't soil my hands with it. After all I've put up
with, and the way I've done my work, and the things I've had to eat,
and--and--"

She paused for breath. Captain Cy scratched his chin. Asaph, gazing
open-mouthed at the trumpet, stirred in his chair. Mrs. Beasley swooped
down upon him like a gull on a minnow.

"And you!" she shrieked. "You! a miserable little, good-for-nothin',
lazy, ridiculous, dried-up-- . . . Oo--oo--OH! You call yourself a town
clerk! YOU do! I--I wouldn't have you clerk for a hen house! I'm an old
chromo, be I? Yes! that's nice talk, ain't it, to a woman old enough
to be--that is--er--er--'most as old as you be! You sneakin',
story-tellin', little, fat THING, you! You--oh, I can't lay my tongue to
words to tell you WHAT you are."

"You're doin' pretty well, seems to me," observed Captain Cy dryly. "I
wouldn't be discouraged if I was you."

The only effect of this remark was to turn the wordy torrent in his
direction. The captain bore it for a while; then he rose to his feet and
commanded silence.

"That's enough! Stop it!" he ordered, and, strange to say, Mrs. Beasley
did stop. "I'm sorry, Debby," he went on, "but you had no business to be
listenin' even if--" and he smiled grimly, "you have got a new