"Because I felt the way you have felt yourself."

"When?"

"When the woman that made those wax-flowers, and loved that little
stuffed bird in there, died."

Georgie K.'s face paled. "What's the matter, Doc?"

"Nothing, I tell you."

"What?"

"Nothing. Who said there was anything? I had to have my little joke. I
tell you, Georgie K., I've _got_ to have my little joke, just as I've
got to have my game of euchre with you and my glass of apple-jack; a man
can't be driven too far. I meant to make it right with him. He's a mean
little cuss, but I am not mean. I intended to spend a hundred on my
joke, and you got ahead of me. For God's sake, take the money, Georgie
K."

Georgie K., still with a white, shocked, inquiring face, extended his
hand and took the roll of bills which the doctor gave him.

"Come in and take something," said he, and Doctor Gordon and James
accepted. They went again into the state parlor on whose shelf were the
wax-flowers and the stuffed canary, and they partook of apple-jack.

Then Doctor Gordon and James took leave. Georgie K. gave Gordon a hearty