There was somethin' kind of horrible about it. Me 'n' Hadds looked
on petrified.

"Then, 'Oh, my poor husband! What are they doin' to you?' says a
v'ice behind us, and the Majoress skipped across the floor and fell
on the Major. That's the word for it; she let go all holts an'
dropped, gatherin' him up in her arms.

"'What did you say, Willie?' she asks.

"'Hoor-rash-o!' says the Major. 'A-kissh-uuu! ha-ha-hrrrum-pah!
A-ketcheer! Aketcher-hisssh-hoor-rash-o!'

"Now, Hadds, when he see the lady weepin' that way, was all broke
up. He didn't know about Keno's goblet full of whiskey, so he
thought it was genuine emotion.

"'Don't cry, ma'am,' says he. ''Twill be all right in a minute.
That red's nothin' but carmine and simple syrup--it'll all come out
in the wash, and sneezin's good for the man.'

"The Mayoress she rose and looked at Hadds. There was a glare in
her eye more'n human. I read in a book once about the tremenjous
dignity of the lady the trouble was all about. It didn't seem
reasonable any female person could act that way till I see the
Majoress. She had dignity enough for two maiden ladies at a
niece's weddin' and a nigger head-waiter. The way she laid holt of
Hadds' collar was impressive a great deal more than I'm able to
tell you. Poor Hadds was faded. He looked like a pup caught with
a chicken in his mouth. They made a grand march to the general