you came. I am sick of
lawyers and ministers. If you insist upon talking on such subjects I'll
tell Swiss, and the next time you come he won't even bark to let me know
you're here."

Quincy took in the situation, and smiling said, "I am tired of lawyers
and lawsuits myself; that is the reason I came down here for a change.
The subjects you mention will satisfy me, if you will allow me to put in
a few words about rowing, running, boxing, and football."

Uncle Ike replied, "The physically perfect man I admire, the
intellectually perfect man is usually a big bore; I prefer the company
of my chickens." Turning to Swiss he said with a marked change in his
voice, "This is a friend of mine, Swiss." Turning to Quincy he said, "He
will admit you until I give him directions to the contrary."

The dog walked quietly to one side and Quincy advanced with outstretched
hand toward Uncle Ike.

Uncle Ike did not extend his. He said, "I never shake hands, young man.
It is a hollow social custom. With Damon and Pythias it meant something.
One was ready to die for the other, and that hand-clasp meant friendship
until death. How many hand shakings mean that nowadays? Besides," with a
queer smile, "I have just been cutting up a broiler that I intend to
cook for my dinner. Come in, you are welcome on the conditions I have
mentioned."

Quincy obeyed and stepped into the kitchen of Sleepy Hollow. He owned to
himself in after years that that was the most important step he had
taken in life--the turning-point in his career.

CHAPTER VI.

SOME NEW IDEAS.

"Did you ever kill a chicken?" asked Uncle Ike, as Quincy entered the
room and took a seat in the willow rocker Uncle Ike pointed out to him.

"No," replied Quincy, "but out in Chicago I saw live hogs killed,
bristles taken off, cut up, assorted according to kind and quality, and
hung up to cool off, in three minutes."

Uncle Ike responded vehemently, "Yes, I know, and it is a shame to the
American people that they allow such things."

"That may be true," said Quincy, "but even at that speed they cannot
kill and pack as fast as it is wanted."

"Yes," said Uncle Ike, "in the old days man feared God, and he treated
man and beast better for that reason. In these days man serves Mammon
and he will do anything to win his favor."

"Do you think it is true that men were better in the old days?" asked
Quincy.

"No," answered Uncle Ike, "I didn't say so. I said that in the old d