mered. "I realize
that I must seem--ah--perhaps insane, to you. But I have, as I say, been
ill and I have walked several miles, owing to--ah--mistakes in locality,
and not having eaten for some time, since breakfast, in fact, I--"

"Not since BREAKFAST? Didn't you have any dinner, for mercy sakes?"

"No, madam. Nor luncheon. Oh, it is quite all right, no one's fault but
my own. Then, when I found the--the hotel closed, I--I sat down to rest
and--and when I heard you call my name--"

"Wait a minute. What IS your name?"

"My name is Bangs, Galusha Bangs. It seems ridiculous now, as I tell it,
but I certainly thought I heard you or some one call me by the name my
relatives and friends used to use. Of course--"

"Wait. What was that name?"

Even now, dizzy and faint as he was, Mr. Bangs squirmed upon the sofa.

"It was--well, it was Loosh--or--ah--Looshy" he admitted, guiltily.

His hostess' face broke into smiles. Her "comfortable" shoulders shook.

"Well, if that doesn't beat everything!" she exclaimed. "I was callin'
my cat; his name is Lucy--Lucy Larcom; sometimes we call him 'Luce' for
short.... Eh? Heavens and earth! Don't do THAT!"

But Galusha had already done it. The dervish dance in his head had
culminated in one grand merry-go-round blotting out consciousness
altogether, and he had sunk down upon the sofa.

The woman sprang from her chair, bent over him, felt his pulse, and
loosened his collar.

"Primmie," she called. "Primmie, come here this minute, I want you!"

There was the sound of scurrying feet, heavy feet, from the adjoining
room, the door opened and a large, raw-boned female, of an age which
might have been almost anything within the range of the late teens or
early twenties, clumped in. She had a saucer in one hand and a dishcloth
in the other.

"Yes'm," she said, "here I be." Then, seeing the prone figure upon the
sofa, she exclaimed fervently, "Oh, my Lord of Isrul! Who's that?"

"Now don't stand there swearin' and askin' questions, but do as I tell
you. You go to the--"

"But--but what AILS him? Is he drunk?"

"Drunk? What put such a notion as that in your head? Of course he isn't
drunk."

"He ain't--he ain't dead?"

"Don't be so silly. He's fainted away, that's all. He's tired out and
half sick and half starved, I guess. Here, where are you goin'?"

"I'm a-goin' to fetch some water. They always heave water on fainted
folks."

"Well, this one's had all the water he needs alr