g you by your feet,
same as Mis' Bates did when her little Henry choked on a marble, can I?
Besides, you couldn't have swallowed 'em. You'll find 'em somewheres."

"Maybe I couldn't have swallered 'em, but I have," Grandmother mumbled.
"What's more, I feel 'em workin' now inside me. They're chewing on the
linin' of my stomach, and it hurts."

[Sidenote: What's the Matter?]

"I didn't know there was any linin' in your stomach."

"There is. It said so in the paper."

"Did it say anything about hooks and eyes and whalebones? What kind of a
linin' is it--cambric, or drillin'?"

"I don't see how you can set there, Matilda, and make fun of your poor
old mother, when she's bein' eaten alive by her own teeth. I wouldn't
treat a dog like that, much less my own flesh and blood."

"I've never heard of dogs bein' et by their own teeth," commented
Matilda, missing the point.

Ostentatiously lame, Grandmother limped to the decrepit sofa and lay
down with a groan. Rosemary came in from the kitchen with the oatmeal,
and was about to go back for the coffee when another groan arrested her
attention.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I'm dyin', Rosemary," Grandmother mumbled, hoarsely. "I've swallered my
teeth, and I am dyin' in agony."

"Nonsense! You couldn't have swallowed your teeth!"

"That's what I told her," said Miss Matilda, triumphantly.

"But I have," Grandmother retorted, feebly. "I can feel 'em--here." She
placed her hand upon her ill-defined waist line, and groaned again.

[Sidenote: Rosemary to the Rescue]

Rosemary ran up-stairs, inspired to unusual speed by the heartrending
sounds that came from below. When she returned, Grandmother seemed to be
in a final spasm, and even Matilda was frightened, though she would not
have admitted it.

"Here," said Rosemary. "Now come to breakfast."

Grandmother rolled her eyes helplessly toward Rosemary, then suddenly
sat up. "Where'd you get 'em?" she demanded, in a different tone.

"They were on the floor under the washstand. Please come before
everything gets cold."

"I told you you hadn't swallowed 'em," remarked Matilda, caustically.

"Maybe I didn't, but I might have," rejoined Grandmother. "Anyhow, I've
seen how you'd all act in case I had swallered 'em, and I know who to
leave my money to when I die." She beamed kindly upon Rosemary, in whom
the mention of money had produced mingled emotions of anger and
resentment.

"If you had swallowed 'em, Rosemary