"If it were morning," the philosopher continued, with a smile, "I would
be always making love to the best and prettiest girl in the state."

Martha tossed her head and the ghost of an old blush crept into her
wrinkled cheeks. "There's no fool like an old fool," she quoted with a
spark of her girlhood fire.

"But a young fool gets so much more out of his foolishness," the man
retorted. "Talk of the responsibilities of age; humph! They are nothing
compared to the responsibilities of youth. There's Dan now--" He looked
again toward the monument.

"My goodness me, yes!" ejaculated Martha. "And I've got a week's work to
do before I even begin to get dinner. You go right off this minute and
kill three of those young roosters--three, mind you."

"But, my dear, he will only be here for dinner."

"Never you mind, the dinner's my business. Kill three, I tell you. I've
cooked for preachers before. I hope to the Lord he'll start you to
thinking of your eternal future, 'stead of mooning about the past." She
bustled away to turn the little home upside down and to prepare dinner
sufficient for six.

When the Doctor had killed the three roosters, and had fussed about until
his wife ordered him out of the kitchen, he took his hat and stick and
started down town, though it was still a good hour until train time. As
he opened the front gate Denny called a cheery greeting from his garden
across the street, and the old man went over for a word with the crippled
boy.