Alonzo Pit-_kin_!"

Mrs. Joe Pitkin stood at the door a moment, waiting; then she shook
her shoulders with a despairing gesture, and went back into the
sitting-room. "I don't know where he is, Deacon Bassett," she said.
"There! I'm sorry; but he's so bashful, Don Alonzo is, he'll creep
off and hide anywheres sooner than see folks. I do feel mortified,
but I can't seem to help it, no way in the world."

"No need to, Mis' Pitkin," said Deacon Bassett, rising slowly and
reaching for his hat. "No need to. I should have been pleased to see
Don 'Lonzo, and ask if he got benefit from those pills I left for him
last time I called; what he wants is to doctor reg'lar, and keep
straight on doctorin'. But I can call again; and I felt it a duty to
let you know what's goin' on at your own yard-gate, I may say. Mis'
Pegrum's house ain't but a stone's throw from yourn, is it? Well,
I'll be wishing you good day, and I hope Joseph will be home before
there's any trouble. I don't suppose you've noticed whether Don
Alonzo has growed any, sence he took those pills?"

"No, I haven't!" said Mrs. Pitkin, shortly. "Good day, Deacon Bassett."

"Yes, you can call again," she added, mentally, as she watched the
deacon making his way slowly down the garden walk, stopping the
while to inspect every plant that looked promising. "You can call
again, but you will not see him, if you come every day. It does beat
all, the way folks can't let that boy alone. Talk about his being
cranky! I'd be ten times as cranky as he is, if I was pestered by
every old podogger that's got stuff to sell."