ir suspense as to
what he did when alone so long in his bedroom, reached a tension that
was painful.

Promptly at half-past six, Absalom, clad in his Sunday suit, appeared
at the hotel, to perform his weekly stint of sitting-up.

As Rebecca always occupied the parlor on Sunday evening with her
gentleman friend, there was only left to Absalom and Tillie to sit
either in the kitchen or with the assembled family in the sitting-room.
Tillie preferred the latter. Of course she knew that such respite as
the presence of the family gave her was only temporary, for in friendly
consideration of what were supposed to be her feelings in the matter,
they would all retire early. Absalom also knowing this, accepted the
brief inconvenience of their presence without any marked restiveness.

"Say, Absalom," inquired the doctor, as the young man took up his post
on the settee beside Tillie, sitting as close to her as he could
without pushing her off, "how did your pop pass his opinion about the
new teacher after the Board meeting Saturday, heh?"

The doctor was lounging in his own special chair by the table, his fat
legs crossed and his thumbs thrust into his vest arms. Amanda idly
rocked back and forth in a large luridly painted rocking-chair by the
window, and Mrs. Wackernagel sat by the table before an open Bible in
which she was not too much absorbed to join occasionally in the general
conversation.

"He sayed he was afraid he was some tony," answered Absalom. "And," he
added, a reflection in his tone of his father's suspicious attitude on
Saturday night toward Fairchilds, "pop sayed HE couldn't make out what
was his conwictions. He couldn't even tell right was he a Bible
Christian or no."

"He certainly does, now, have pecooliar views," agreed the doctor. "I
was talkin' to him this after--"

"You WAS!" exclaimed Amanda, a note of chagrin in her voice. "Well, I'd
like to know where at? Where had he took himself to?"

"Up to the woods there by the old mill. I come on him there at five
o'clock--layin' readin' and musin'--when I was takin' a short cut home
through the woods comin' from Adam Oberholzer's."

"Well I never!" cried Amanda. "And was he out there all by hisself the
whole afternoon?" she asked incredulously.

"So much as I know. AIN'T he, now, a queer feller not to want a girl
along when one was so handy?" teased the doctor.

"Well," retorted Amanda, "I think he's hard up--to be spendin' a whole
afternoon READIN'!