while Uncle Peter fell off his chair and landed on the cat,
which had never done him any harm.

Elsie's interpretation of that wedding invitation is going to set Herman
Schulz back several dollars, or I'm not a foot high.

And maybe they don't have their troubles at Troolyrooral with the
servant problem.

It's one hard problem, that--and nobody seems to get the right answer.

One morning later on Peaches and I were out on the porch drinking in the
glorious air and chatting with Hep Hardy, who had come out to spend
Sunday with us, when Aunt Martha came bustling out followed by Uncle
Peter, who, in turn, was followed by Lizzie Joyce, their latest cook.

Lizzie wore a new lid, trimmed with prairie grass and field daisies,
hanging like a shade over the left lamp; she had a grouchy looking grip
in one hand and a green umbrella with black freckles in the other.

She was made up to catch the first train that sniffed into the station.

Aunt Martha whispered to us plaintively, "Lizzie has been here only two
days and this makes the seventh time she has started for town."

Busy Lizzie took the center of the stage and scowled at her audience.
"I'm takin' the next train for town, Mem!" she announced, with
considerable bitterness.

Uncle Peter made a brave effort to scowl back at her, but she flashed
her lanterns at him and he fell back two paces to the rear.

"What is it this time, Lizzie?" inquired Aunt Martha.

Lizzie put the grouchy grip down, folded her arms, and said, "Oh, I have
me grievances!"

Uncle Peter sidled up to Aunt Martha and said in a hoarse whisper, "My
dear, this shows a lack of firmness on your part. Now, leave everything
to me and let me settle this obstreperous servant once and for all!"

Uncle Peter crossed over and got in the limelight with Lizzie.

"It occurs to me," he began in polished accents, "that this is an
occasion upon which I should publicly point out to you the error of your
ways, and send you back to your humble station with a better knowledge
of your status in this household."

"S'cat!" said Lizzie, and Uncle Peter began to fish for his next line.

"I want you to understand," he went on, "that I pay you your wages!"

"Sure, if you didn't," was Lizzie's come-back, "I'd land on you good and
hard, that I would. What else are you here for, you fathead?"

"Fathead!" echoed Uncle Peter in astonishment.

"Peter, leave her to me," pleaded Aunt Martha.

But Uncle Peter rushed blindl