Miss Clegg sighed heavily and turned to re-enter the house.

Mrs. Lathrop went "round by the gate" and became again an inmate of
her own kitchen. There the thought occurred to her that it was an
excellent morning to clean the high-shelf over the sink. For years
past whenever she had had occasion to put anything up there, showers
of dust and rolls of lint had come tumbling down upon her head. Under
such circumstances it was but natural that a determination to some day
clean the shelf should have slowly but surely been developed.
Accordingly she climbed up on the edge of the sink and undertook the
initiatory proceedings. The lowest stratum of dirt was found to rest
upon a newspaper containing an account of one day of Guiteau's trial.
Upon the discovery of the paper Mrs. Lathrop suddenly abandoned her
original plan, got down from the sink, ensconced herself in her
kitchen rocker, and plunged into bliss forthwith.

An hour passed pleasantly and placidly by. Bees buzzed outside the
window, the kettle sizzled sweetly on the stove, the newspaper rustled
less and less, Mrs. Lathrop's head sank sideways, and the calm of
perfect peace reigned in her immediate vicinity.

This state of things endured not long.

Its gentle Paradise was suddenly broken in upon and rent apart by a
succession of the most piercing shrieks that ever originated in the
throat of a human being. Mrs. Lathrop came to herself with a violent
start, sprang to her feet, ran to the door, and then stood still,
completely dazed and at first unable to discern from which direction
the ear-splitting screams proceeded. Then, in a second, her senses
returned to her, and she ran as fast as she could to the fence. As she