gs are coming
to a fine pass when lightning-rod agents send up engraved cards." "He
has pictures," added Sylvester. "Pictures, indeed! He maybe peddling
etchings. Has he a Russia leather case?" But Sylvester was too
frightened to remember. I said; "I am going down to make it hot for that
upstart!"

I went down the stairs, working up my temper all the way. When I got to
the parlor I was in a fine frenzy concealed beneath a veneer of frigid
courtesy. And when I looked in the door, sure enough he had a Russia
leather case in his hand. But I didn't happen to notice that it was our
Russia leather case.

And if you'd believe me, that man was sitting with a whole gallery of
etchings spread out before him. But I didn't happen to notice that
they were our etchings, spread out by some member of my family for some
unguessed purpose.

Very curtly I asked the gentleman his business. With a surprised, timid
manner he faltered that he had met my wife and daughter at Onteora, and
they had asked him to call. Fine lie, I thought, and I froze him.

He seemed to be kind of non-plussed, and sat there fingering the
etchings in the case until I told him he needn't bother, because we had
those. That pleased him so much that he leaned over, in an embarrassed
way, to pick up another from the floor. But I stopped him. I
said, "We've got that, too." He seemed pitifully amazed, but I was
congratulating myself on my great success.

Finally the gentleman asked where Mr. Winton lived; he'd met him in the
mountains, too. So I said I'd show him gladly. And I did on the spot.
And when he was gone I felt queer, because there were all his etchings
spread out on the floor.

Well, my wife came in and asked me who had been in. I showed her the
card, and told her all exultantly. To my dismay she nearly fainted. She
told me he had been a most kind friend to them in the country, and had
forgotten to tell me that he was expected our way. And she pushed me out
of the door, and commanded me to get over to the Wintons in a hurry and
get him back.

I came into the drawing-room, where Mrs. Winton was sitting up very
stiff in a chair, beating me at my own game. Well, I began, to put
another light on things. Before many seconds Mrs. Winton saw it was
time to change her temperature. In five minutes I had asked the man to
luncheon, and she to dinner, and so on.

We made that fellow change his trip and stay a week, and we gave him the
time of his life. Why, I do