olonel."

"You see," said the latter, as, with great difficulty, he restrained
himself for half a moment, "this is my busy day."

Again he roared and shook in a fit of ungovernable mirth. In the midst of
it Mrs. Lukins arrived.

"Don't pay no 'tention to him," she said. "The 'Colonel' is wearin'
himself out restin'. He's kep' his head bobbin' all day like a
woodpecker's. Jest laughs till he's sick every time he an' ol' John gits
together. It's plum ridic'lous."

The "Colonel" turned serious long enough to give him time to explain in a
quivering, joyous tone: "0l' John, he just sets beside me and says the
gol' darndest funniest things!"

He could get no further. His last words were blown out in a gale of
laughter. Mrs. Lukins had sat down with her knitting.

"Ol' John Barleycorn will leave to-night, an' to-morrow the 'Colonel'
will be the soberest critter in Illinois--kind o' lonesome like an'
blubberin' to himself," she explained. The faithful soul added in a
whisper of confidence: "He's a good man. There don't nobody know how deep
an' kind o' coralapus like he is."

She now paused as if to count stitches. For a long time the word
"coralapus" had been a prized possession of Mrs. Lukins. Like her
feathered bonnet, it was used only on special occasions by way of putting
her best foot forward. It was indeed a family ornament of the same
general character as her husband's title. Just how she came by it nobody
could tell, but of its general significance, as it fell from her lips;
there could be no doubt whatever in any but the most obtuse intellect.
For her it had a large and noble, although a rather indefinite meaning,
entirely favorable to the person or the object to which it was applied.
There was one other word in her lexicon which was in the nature of a
jewel to be used only on special occasions. It was the word "copasetic."
The best society of Salem Hill understood perfectly that it signalized
an unusual depth of meaning.

In half a moment she added: "He's got some grand idees. If they was ever
drawed out an' spread on the ground so that folks could see them, I
reckon they'd be surprised."

"I'm sorry to find him in this condition," said Harry. "We wanted you and
him to come out and help Mrs. Traylor to look after the place while we
are gone to Chicago."

"You needn't worry about Ol' John," said she.

"He'll git lonesome an' toddle off when the 'Colonel' goes to bed an'
won't come 'round ag'in till snow f