e what I writ on earth look like nothin','--or some sich nonsense.
Doc looked back at me once, proud as sin, an' then he swelled out his
lungs, an' run his hand over his whiskers, like you've seen him do. He
was gittin' wound up for a good talk.

"If I do say it myself, Doc's a good talker, an' I figgered he'd make
Moller hustle. I see Doc was goin' to spread hisself to do credit to
Shakespeare. He hadn't no doubt that one spirit would recognize another,
so he says, like he was makin' a speech, 'You know who I am?'

"'I do,' says Moller.

"'Then,' says Doc, 'since my spirit eyes are blinded by this mortal
body, may I ask who you are?' He didn't hardly breathe. Then Moller
jerked. 'I am Shakespeare,' he says, sudden-like.

"'What's that?' says Doc, short and quick.

"'Shakespeare,' says Moller--'William Shakespeare.'

"Poor Doc jist dropped into his chair, and run his hand over his
forehead and his eyes, like he had bumped into the edge of a door in the
dark. I ain't never seen Doc real pale but once, and that was then.
Then he turned round to ma an' me, weak as a sick baby, an' says, 'Come,
Loreny; this lyin' place ain't nowhere for you and me to be,' and we
went out.

"'Well, Doc,' I says, when we was outside, 'seems to me like there is
two of you,' and that was all I says to him about it, then; but I guess
he see what a fool he'd been, 'cause the next night he says, 'Loreny,
I wisht you'd git me a set of the articles of belief of our church. I'd
like to look them over.'

"'Well,' I says, 'who'll I say wants them, Shakespeare or Doc Weaver?'

"'You can say an old fool wants them,' says Doc, 'and you'll hit it
about right.'

"So Doc jined church, an' he's leadin' the singin' now; but you can
see why I keep sich a lookout lest he gits started off on some new
religion."

Mrs. Weaver glanced at the clock.

"Mercy me!" she exclaimed. "Doc'll be home before I git them supper
dishes washed up. Now, you won't feel hurt because I don't want you to
talk new religions to Doc, will you? You can see jist how I feel, and
you wouldn't want no husband yourself that was a philopeny, as you might
say. I don't believe I could git on real well with Doc if he had kept on
bein' Shakespeare. I'd always have felt like he was 'bout three hundred
years older than me. But there's jist one thing I dread more than
anything else. If Doc should take up with the Mormon religion and start
a harem, I believe I'd coax him to be Shakespear