e'd et 'nuff herse'f--an'
bust out sobbin' 'bout her mammy. It got so I was prospectin' 'round fo'
sumpin to t'row at her haid! I sure was.

"An' de fussin', and de mo'nin' dresses and bunnits, an' de circus-shows
she had to hab to show she was properly sorry 'cause her mammy had gone.
Ma soul!"

Suddenly Uncle Rufus began to chuckle his mellow chuckle and they knew
the point of his story was at hand.

"She done want to write to all de rel'tives an' friends scattered about
de fo'ty p'ints of the compass 'bout her mammy's bein' tuk away. Dis was
a mighty fur time back, chillen; but Pechunia was jes as foolish den as
she is now."

But Uncle Rufus by no means monopolized the conversation at dinner that
evening. Tess was so full of the aerial tramway that she would have
built it and rebuilt it forty times, so Agnes said, if they had not
begged her to stop. Dot was too depressed to think of much but darning.
Ruth, however, had an amusing tale to tell.

She described the queer looking old gentleman with the green umbrella
and told quite energetically of the adventure at the railroad crossing.

"My dear!" exclaimed Mrs. MacCall, "you might have been hurt yourself.
What a start I'd have had had I seen you. And no man would be worth your
getting hurt, ma lassie."

"Quite right," croaked Aunt Sarah from the other end of the table. Her
opinion of men in general coincided with Mrs. MacCall's remark. The old
Corner House was a good deal of an Adamless Eden. But now Agnes
suggested something that was quite sure to break up the usual order of
the household arrangements.

"If you and Aunt Sarah dislike men so," she asked Mrs. MacCall,
laughing, "what are you going to do when Cecile Shepard and her brother
come? When will they arrive, Ruth!"

"On Monday, I expect," said the older sister. "But I am sure Aunt Sarah
won't mind Luke Shepard any more than she does Neale--or Sammy."

"Who says I don't mind that Neale O'Neil?" snapped the old woman. "All
boys are a nuisance. And this Shepard is nothing more than a boy, is
he?"

"Oh, he's quite grown up," said Agnes. "He's entering his junior year at
college."

"And he owns a tin-peddler's wagon," added Dot, as though that fact
surely added to Luke Shepard's dignity and importance.

"Hoh!" sniffed Aunt Sarah, "you girls do mix up with the strangest
people! I never see your beat! A tin peddler and his sister."

"But Mrs. Heard, who went with us on our motor trip, liked and appr