words utterly failing him, while Joe sat horror-stricken, holding aloft
on his fork a smoking potato. Jethro continued to sip his coffee.

"B-busy times, Chester," he said, "b-busy times."

Chester choked. Where were the burning words of denunciation which came
so easily to his tongue on other occasions? It is difficult to denounce a
man who insists upon drinking coffee.

"Set right down, Chester," said Mrs. Northcutt, behind him.

Chester sat down, and to this day he cannot account for that action. Once
seated, habit asserted itself; and he attacked the boiled dinner with a
ferocity which should have been exercised against Jethro.

"I suppose the stores down to the capital is finer than ever, Mr. Bass,"
remarked Mrs. Northcutt.

"So-so, Mis' Northcutt, so-so."

"I was there ten years ago," remarked Mrs. Northcutt, with a sigh of
reminiscence, "and I never see such fine silks and bonnets in my life.
Now I've often wanted to ask you, did you buy that bonnet with the
trembly jet things for Mis' Bass?"

"That bonnet come out full better'n I expected," answered Jethro,
modestly.

"You have got taste in wimmin's fixin's, Mr. Bass. Strange? Now I
wouldn't let Joe choose my things for worlds."