more, until the devil got too strong in Sophronisba and she shut it
up. Now, shall you keep the lane closed, or shall you dismiss the
injunctions?"

"I shall have to consult Judge Gatchell."

"Gatchell's a fossilized remains. He's got no more blood in his
liver than a flea. Gatchell would hang his grandmother on a point of
law. Why should you, or any other ordinarily intelligent person, be
guided by Gatchell?"

"By whom, then, shall I be guided? You?" I wondered.

"That's not in my line," replied the doctor, shortly, and thrust his
hands into his gloves. "In the meantime, ladies, I'm your next-door
neighbor; I have no wife to gossip about you, no children to annoy
you; I'm far enough away to keep you from smelling my pipe; and I
shall quarrel with you only when I can't help it. In return, I have
but one favor to beg of you: don't use a shot-gun on my prize
chickens! Get a dog and train him to chase them home, if they get
into your yard. Or catch them and throw them over the hedge. I'll
pay any damages within reason. And please send for your cat."

"We have a cat?"

"You have. After Sophronisba's death, Mandy took her in; or rather,
Mandy was afraid to turn her out, for it's bad luck to cross a
witch's cat. In return for this charity the hussy immediately
foisted upon us two wholly unnecessary kittens. Mandy wouldn't allow
them to be decently drowned, for it's worse luck yet to tamper with