ere fixed things up," said Uncle Gutton, "we
didn't talk no nonsense, and we didn't start with no misunderstandings.
'I'm not a duke,' I says--"

"Had she been mistaking you for one?" enquired Minikin.

Mr. Clapper commented, not tactfully, but with appreciative laugh. I
feared for a moment lest Uncle Gutton's little eyes should leave his
head.

"Not being a natural-born, one-eyed fool," replied Uncle Gutton, glaring
at the unabashed Minikin, "she did not. 'I'm not a duke,' I says, and
_she_ had sense enough to know as I was talking sarcastic like. 'I'm not
offering you a life of luxury and ease. I'm offering you myself, just
what you see, and nothing more.'

"She took it?" asked Minikin, who was mopping up his gravy with his
bread.

"She accepted me, sir," returned Uncle Gutton, in a voice that would
have awed any one but Minikin. "Can you give me any good reason for her
not doing so?"

"No need to get mad with me," explained Minikin. "I'm not blaming the
poor woman. We all have our moments of despair."

The unfortunate Clapper again exploded. Uncle Gutton rose to his feet.
The ready Jarman saved the situation.

"'Ear! 'ear!" cried Jarman, banging the table with the handles of two
knives. "Silence for Uncle Gutton! 'E's going to propose a toast. 'Ear,
'ear!"

Mrs. Clapper, seconding his efforts, the whole table broke into
applause.

"What, as a matter of fact, I did get up to say--" began Uncle Gutton.

"Good old Uncle Gutton!" persisted the determined Jarman. "Bride and
bridegroom--long life to 'em!"

Uncle Sutton, evidently pleased, allowed his indignation against Minikin
to evaporate.

"Well," said Uncle Gutton, "if you think I'm the one to do it--"

The response was unmistakable. In our enthusiasm we broke two glasses
and upset a cruet; a small, thin lady was unfortunate enough to shed her
chignon. Thus encouraged, Uncle Sutton launched himself upon his task.
Personally, I should have been better pleased had Fate not interposed to
assign to him the duty.

Starting with a somewhat uninstructive history of his own career, he
suddenly, and for no reason at all obvious, branched off into fierce
censure of the Adulteration Act. Reminded of the time by the maternal
Sellars, he got in his first sensible remark by observing that with
such questions, he took it, the present company was not particularly
interested, and directed himself to the main argument. To his, Uncle
Gutton's, foresight, wisdom and i