, Pa.
A man of fifty-five ought to have grown out of such a hankering. But
the older you get the worse you get. Anyway, if _I_ wanted to go to
auctions, I'd select them as was something like, and not waste my time
on little one-horse affairs like this of Garland's."

"One might pick up something real cheap at Garland's," said Pa
defensively.

"Well, you are not going to pick up anything, cheap or otherwise, Pa
Sloane, because I'm going with you to see that you don't. I know I can't
stop you from going. I might as well try to stop the wind from blowing.
But I shall go, too, out of self-defence. This house is so full now of
old clutter and truck that you've brought home from auctions that I feel
as if I was made up out of pieces and left overs."

Pa Sloane sighed again. It was not exhilarating to attend an auction
with Ma. She would never let him bid on anything. But he realized that
Ma's mind was made up beyond the power of mortal man's persuasion to
alter it, so he went out to hitch up.

Pa Sloane's dissipation was going to auctions and buying things that
nobody else would buy. Ma Sloane's patient endeavours of over thirty
years had been able to effect only a partial reform. Sometimes Pa
heroically refrained from going to an auction for six months at a time;
then he would break out worse than ever, go to all that took place for
miles around, and come home with a wagonful of misfits. His last exploit
had been to bid on an old dasher churn for five dollars--the boys "ran
things up" on Pa Sloane for the fun of it--and bring it home to outraged
Ma, who had made her butter for fifteen years in the very latest, most
up-to-date barrel churn. To add insult to injury this was the second
dasher churn Pa had bought at auction. That settled it. Ma decreed that
henceforth she would chaperon Pa when he went to auctions.

But this was the day of Pa's good angel. When he drove up to the door
where Ma was waiting, a breathless, hatless imp of ten flew into the
yard, and hurled himself between Ma and the wagon-step.

"Oh, Mrs. Sloane, won't you come over to our house at once?" he gasped.
"The baby, he's got colic, and ma's just wild, and he's all black in the
face."

Ma went, feeling that the stars in their courses fought against a woman
who was trying to do her duty by her husband. But first she admonished
Pa.

"I shall have to let you go alone. But I charge you, Pa, not to bid on
anything--on ANYTHING, do you hear?"

Pa hea