in but a frown, and when he and Galusha came
together at the gate he did not speak. Galusha spoke first, which was
unusual; very few people meeting Mr. Horatio Pulcifer were afforded the
opportunity of speaking first.

"Ah--good-morning, Mr. Pulcifer," said Galusha, endeavoring to open the
gate.

"Huh!" grunted Raish, jerking the gate from Mr. Bangs' hand and pushing
it somewhat violently into the Bangs' waistcoat. "Mornin'."

"It is a nice--ah--cool day, isn't it?" observed Galusha, backing from
the gateway in order to give Horatio egress. Mr. Pulcifer's answer was
irrelevant and surprising.

"Say," he demanded, turning truculently upon the speaker, "ain't women
hell?"

Galusha was, naturally, somewhat startled.

"I--I beg your pardon?" he stammered.

"I say ain't women hell? Hey? Ain't they, now?"

Galusha rubbed his chin.

"Well," he said, doubtfully, "I presume in--ah--certain instances
they--My experience has been limited, but--"

"Humph! Say, they make me sick, most of 'em. They haven't any more
business sense than a hen, the heft of 'em ain't. Go into a deal with
their eyes open and then, when it don't turn out to suit 'em, lay down
and squeal. Yes, sir, squeal."

"Ah--I see. Yes, yes, of course. Squeal--yes. The--the hens, you mean."

"HENS? No, women. They make me sick, I tell you.... And now a lot of dum
fools are goin' to give 'em the right to vote! Gosh!"

He strode off along the road to the village. Galusha wonderingly gazed
after him, shook his head, and then moved slowly up the path to the
house. Primmie opened the door for him. Her eyes were snapping.

"Hello, Mr. Bangs!" she said. "I 'most wisht he'd drop down dead and
then freeze to death in a snowbank, that's what I wish."

Galusha blinked.

"Why, bless my soul!" he exclaimed. "Of whom are you speaking?"

"That everlastin' Raish Pulcifer. I never did like him, and now if he's
comin' around here makin' her cry."

"Eh? Making her cry?"

"Sshh! She'll hear you. Makin' Miss Martha cry. She's up in her room
cryin' now, I'll bet you on it. And he's responsible.... Yes'm, I'm
comin'. Don't say nothin' to her that I told you, will you, Mr. Bangs?"

She hurried away in response to her mistress' hail. Galusha said nothing
to Miss Phipps nor to any one else, but during the rest of that day
he did a great deal of thinking. Martha Phipps was worried, she was
troubled, she had been crying; according to Primmie Horatio Pulcifer was
responsi