ool out of me, and I kind of smiled and wasn't
afraid any more; and I turned my face to you and kissed you--like this,
Pheeny.

"Why, you've been cryin', haven't you? You mustn't cry--you mustn't! All
those girls I been tellin' you about are the girl I kiss when I kiss
you, Pheeny. There couldn't be anybody as beautiful as you are to me.

"I ain't 'mounted to much; but it ain't your fault. I wouldn't have
'mounted to anything at all if it hadn't been for you, Pheeny; and I
been the happiest feller in all this world--or I have been up to now.
I'm awful lonedsome just now. Don't you s'pose you could spare me a
kiss?"

She spared him one.

Then the cook pounded on the door and called through in a voice that
threatened to warp the panels: "Ain't you folks ever comin' down to
dinner? I've rang the bell three times. Everything's all cold!"

But it wasn't. Everything was all warm.

POP

I

They made a handsome family group, with just the one necessary element
of contrast.

Father was the contrast.

They were convened within and about the big three-walled divan which,
according to the fashion, was backed up against a long library-table in
what they now called the living-room. It had once been the sitting-room
and had contained a what-isn't-it and a sofa like an enormous bald
caterpillar, crowded against the wall so that you could fall off only
one side of it.

It was a family reunion and unexpected. Father was not convened with the
rest, but sat off in the shadow and counted the feet sticking out from
the divan and protruding from the chairs. He counted fourteen feet,
including his wife's and excluding his own. All the feet were
expensively shod except his own.

Three of the children had come home for a visit, and father, glad as he
was to see them, had a vague feeling that they had been brought in by
some other motive than their loudly proclaimed homesickness. He was
willing to wait until they disclosed it, for he had an idea what it was
and he was always glad to postpone a payment. It meant so much less
interest to lose. Father was a business man.

Father was also dismally computing the addition to the grocery bills,
the butchery bills, and livery bills, and the others. He was figuring
out the added expense of the dinner, with roast beef now costing as much
as peacocks' tongues. He had raised a large family and there was not a
dyspeptic in the lot--not even a banter.

They had been photographed tog