" averred Mrs. Hastings, who, having no
children to enjoy the felicities of tobogganing, was not deeply
interested in the project.

"No trees shall be cut down," replied Amzi quickly; "I'm going to put it
on my own place. You can't tell but I may use it myself more or
less--after dark. The children won't mind, and the doctors say I need
exercise."

Mrs. Waterman pinched her young Amzi, who sweetly chirruped, "We'd love
to have you use it, Uncle Amzi."

"If Uncle Amzi falls off and breaks hims neck, it would be so fun-nee,"
piped Susan delightedly.

"Susan!" exclaimed Susan's mother, lifting a severe finger.

"It _would_ be fun-nee. Wouldn't it be fun-nee, Aunt Katie? Danny
Holton, he fell off hims bicycle going down hims toboggan and breaked
one leg; and it ain't got mended yet. And papa says Uncle Amzi's so fat
an' he tumble on the ice it would smash him like a old cucumber. Yes, I
did, too, hear him say it. Didn't you hear him say it, mamma?"

Mrs. Fosdick had heard nothing of the kind, for the excellent reason, as
her husband declared, that no such impious thought had ever crossed his
mind, much less expressed itself in Susan's presence.

Amzi roared with delight, caught up Susan and planted her on his
shoulder. Even if Paul Fosdick really had compared him to a mature
cucumber it did not greatly matter. Fanny Fosdick glared at her Paul.
All the adults present except Amzi were plainly distressed. Mrs.
Hastings, being childless and therefore entitled to her opinions as to
the rearing of children, resolved that at last she must speak to Fanny
about Susie. And all this embarrassment and irritation by the guileless
Susie had not disturbed Amzi one whit. Amzi had no intention of
rewriting his will to punish Susie, or her forbears.

Hastings, gloomily inhaling a cigarette, turned over the pages of the
book which Amzi had given him. It was a late study of the art of Henry
Irving, and its bestowal had been a conscious flattery on Amzi's part.
Still, it touched unhappy chords in Hastings's bosom. Who was better
equipped than he to catch up the fallen mantle of Irving? And here he
lay impotent in the hands of the fates that had set him down in a dull
village, without means even to hang a moving-picture screen upon the
deserted stage of his theater.

Amzi, having crawled over the floor with Susie at some personal
inconvenience and distress, was now helping his namesakes to set up the
engines he had given them, while t