after-dinner cigar which leads to communication. They are excellent
solvents. My friend seated himself on the pile next to mine, and said,

"It strikes me you have been behaving rather queer lately, Crocker."

This was clearly an invitation from Farrar, and I melted.

"I admit," said I, "that I am a good deal perplexed over the
contradictions of the human mind."

"Oh, is that all?" he replied dryly. "I supposed it was worse.
Narrower, I mean. Didn't know you ever bothered yourself with abstract
philosophy."

"See here, Farrar," said I, "what is your opinion of Miss Thorn?"

He stopped kicking his feet against the pile and looked up.

"Miss Thorn?"

"Yes, Miss Thorn," I repeated with emphasis. I knew he had in mind that
abominable twaddle about the canoe excursions.

"Why, to tell the truth," said he, "I never had any opinion of Miss
Thorn."

"You mean you never formed any, I suppose," I returned with some
tartness.

"Yes, that is it. How darned precise you are getting, Crocker! One