etter writing
consider'ble."

"Sport!" exclaimed Captain Bailey. "Land of Goshen! Cap'n Jonadab is the
last one I'd call a sport."

"That's 'cause you ain't a good judge of human nature, Bailey," chuckled
Barzilla. "When ancient plants like Jonadab Wixon DO bloom, they're gay
old blossoms, I tell you!"

"What do you mean?" asked the depot master.

"I mean that Jonadab's been givin' me heart disease, that's what; givin'
it to me in a good many diff'rent ways, too. We opened the Old Home
House the middle of April this year, because Peter T. Brown thought we
might catch some spring trade. We did catch a little, though whether it
paid to open up so early's a question. But 'twas June 'fore Jonadab got
his disease so awful bad. However, most any time in the last part of May
the reg'lar programme of the male boarders was stirrin' him up.

"Take it of a dull day, for instance. Sky overcast and the wind aidgin'
round to the sou'east, so's you couldn't tell whether 'twould rain or
fair off; too cold to go off to the ledge cod fishin' and too hot for
billiards or bowlin'; a bunch of the younger women folks at one end
of the piazza playin' bridge; half a dozen men, includin' me and Cap'n
Jonadab, smokin' and tryin' to keep awake at t'other end; amidships a
gang of females--all 'fresh air fiends'--and mainly widows or discards
in the matrimony deal, doin' fancywork and gossip. That would be about
the usual layout.

"Conversation got to you in homeopath doses, somethin' like this:

"'Did you say "Spades"? WELL! if I'd known you were going to make us
lose our deal like that, I'd never have bridged it--not with THIS hand.'

"'Oh, Miss Gabble, have you heard what people are sayin' about--' The
rest of it whispers.

"'A--oo--OW! By George, Bill! this is dead enough, isn't it? Shall we
match for the cigars or are you too lazy?'

"Then, from away off in the stillness would come a drawn-out 'Honk!
honk!' like a wild goose with the asthma, and pretty soon up the road
would come sailin' a big red automobile, loaded to the guards with
goggles and grandeur, and whiz past the hotel in a hurricane of dust and
smell. Then all hands would set up and look interested, and Bill would
wink acrost at his chum and drawl:

"'That's the way to get over the country! Why, a horse isn't
one--two--three with that! Cap'n Wixon, I'm surprised that a sportin'
man like you hasn't bought one of those things long afore this.'

"For the next twenty min