on its haunches. All Carthage found itself wavering and poised on
tiptoe and clinging to straps; and then it sogged back on its heels
and waited till the car should resume progress. Mrs. Budlong was the
town's motorman--or "motorneer," as they say in Carthage.

Before she was out of bed, she had invitations abroad for a
convalescent tea, and everybody said, "Here we go again!"

If strangers visited Carthage, Mrs. Budlong counted them her clients
the moment they arrived. Of course, the merely commercial visitors
she left to the hackmen at the station, but friends or relatives of
prominent people could not escape Mrs. Budlong's well-meant
attentions. It was sometimes embarrassing when relatives
appeared--for everybody has Concealed Relatives that he is perfectly
willing to leave in concealment.

Mrs. Alex. (pronounced Ellick) Stubblebine never forgave Mrs. Budlong
for dragging into the limelight some obscure cousins of her husband's
who had drifted into Carthage to borrow money on their farm. Mrs.
Stubblebine was always bragging about her people, her own people that
is. Her husband's people, of course, were after all only
Stubblebines, while her maiden name was Dilatush; and the Dilatushes,
as everybody knew, were related by marriage to the Tatums.

But these were Stubblebines that came to town. Mrs. Stubblebine
could hardly slam the door in their faces, but she would fain have
locked the doors after them. She would not even invite them out on
the front porch. She told them the back porch was cosier and less
conspicuous. And then Mrs. Budlong had to call up on the telephone
and sing out in her telephoniest tone: