ooking out of her dining room
window, saw her boarder enter the front gate, his personal appearance
caused her to utter a startled exclamation. Primmie came running from
the kitchen.

"What's the matter, Miss Martha?" she demanded. "Eh! My savin' soul!"

Mr. Bangs' head was enveloped in the scarf which his hostess had lent
him when he set forth upon his walk. It--the scarf--was tied under
his chin and the fringed ends flapped in the wind. His round face,
surrounded by the yarn folds, looked like that of the small boy in the
pictures advertising somebody-or-other's toothache cure.

"My savin' soul!" cried Primmie, again. She was rushing to the door, but
her mistress intervened.

"Primmie," she ordered, briskly, "stay where you are!"

She opened the door herself.

"Come right in, Mr. Bangs," she said. "No, don't stop to tell me about
it, but come right in and sit down."

Galusha looked up at her. His face was speckled with greenish brown
spots, giving it the appearance of a mammoth bird's egg. Primmie saw the
spots and squealed.

"Lord of Isrul!" she cried, "he's all broke out with it, whatever 'tis!
Shall I--shall I 'phone for the doctor, Miss Martha?"

"Be still, Primmie. Come in, Mr. Bangs."

"Why, yes, thank you. I--ah--WAS coming in," began Galusha, mildly.
"I--"

"You mustn't talk. Sit right down here on the lounge. Primmie, get that
rum bottle. Don't talk, Mr. Bangs."

"But, really, Miss Phipps, I--"

"Don't TALK.... There, drink that."

Galusha obediently drank the rum. Martha tenderly untied the scarf.

"Tell me if it hurts," she said. Her patient looked at her in surprise.

"Why, no, it--ah--it is very nice," he said. "I--ah--quite like the
taste, really."

"Heavens and earth, I don't mean the rum. I hope that won't HURT
anybody, to say the least. I mean--Why, there isn't anything the matter
with it!"

"Matter with it? I don't quite--"

"Matter with your head."

Galusha raised a hand in bewildered fashion and felt of his cranium.

"Why--ah--no, there is nothing the matter with my head, so far as I
am aware," he replied. "Does it look as if it were--ah--softening or
something?"

Miss Martha ignored the pleasantry. "What have you got it tied up for?"
she demanded.

"Tied up?" Galusha's smile broadened. "Oh, I see," he observed. "Well, I
lost my hat. It blew off into the--ah--sea. It was rather too cold to be
about bareheaded, so I used the scarf you so kindly lent me."

Martha gaze