Echoes, or Living Truths for Heart and Head," by John B. Gough.

"Lemme see--your name's Fairchilds, ain't?" the landlady abruptly asked.

"Yes," bowed the young man.

"Will you, now, take it all right if I call you by your Christian name?
Us Mennonites daresent call folks Mr. and Mrs. because us we don't
favor titles. What's your first name now?"

Mr. Fairchilds considered the question with the appearance of trying to
remember. "You'd better call me Pestalozzi," he answered, with a look
and tone of solemnity.

"Pesky Louzy!" Mrs. Waekernagel exclaimed. "Well, now think! That's a
name where ain't familiar 'round here. Is it after some of your folks?"

"It was a name I think I bore in a previous incarnation as a teacher of
youth," Fairchilds gravely replied.

Mrs. Waekernagel looked blank. "Tillie!" she appealed to her niece, who
had shyly stepped half behind her, "do you know right what he means?"

Tillie dumbly shook her head.

"Pesky Louzy!" Mrs. Waekernagel experimented with the unfamiliar name.
"Don't it, now, beat all! It'll take me awhile till I'm used to that
a'ready. Mebbe I'll just call you Teacher; ain't?"

She looked at him inquiringly, expecting an answer. "Ain't!" she
repeated in her vigorous, whole-souled way.

"Eh--ain't WHAT?" Fairchilds asked, puzzled.

"Och, I just mean, SAY NOT? Can't you mebbe talk English wery good? We
had such a foreigners at this HOtel a'ready. We had oncet one, he was
from Phil'delphy and he didn't know what we meant right when we sayed,
'The butter's all any more.' He'd ast like you, 'All what?' Yes, he was
that dumm! Och, well," she added consolingly, "people can't help fur
their dispositions, that way!"

"And what must I call you?" the young man inquired.

"My name's Wackernagel."

"Miss or Mrs.?"

"Well, I guess not MISS anyhow! I'm the mother of four!"

"Oh, excuse me!"

"Oh, that's all right!" responded Mrs. Wackernagel, amiably. "Well, I
must go make supper now. You just make yourself at home that way."

"May I go to my room?"

"Now?" asked Mrs. Wackernagel, incredulously. "Before night?"

"To unpack my dress-suit case," the young man explained. "My trunk will
be brought out to-morrow on the stage."

"All right. If you want. But we ain't used to goin' up-stairs in the
daytime. Tillie, you take his satchel and show him up. This is my
niece, Tillie Getz."

Again Mr. Fairchilds bowed to the girl as his eyes rested on the fair
face looking out from