ad,
and when they're bad they can't help it. They can't help it, Myron, the
bad ones can't, no matter how hard they try."

"Yes, I believe I come acrost it," said Myron. "Terrible foolish it was.
That's one o' the things doctors get up to feather their own nest."

"No, Myron, it ain't foolish," said his wife. She moved her chair
nearer, and her glasses glittered at him. "It ain't foolish, for I'm one
o' that same kind, and I know."

His eyes came open, and he turned his head to look at her.

"Ain't you feelin' well, Caddie?" he asked kindly.

"Oh, yes, I'm well as common," she answered. "But it ain't foolish,
Myron, and you've got to hear me. 'Double Personality,' that's what they
call it. Well, I've got it. I've got double personality."

Myron Dill put his feet to the floor, and sat upright. He was regarding
his wife anxiously, but he took pains to speak with a commonplace
assurance.

"We might as well be gettin' off to bed early, I guess. I'm tired, and
so be you."

"I've felt it for quite a long spell," said his wife earnestly. "I
don't know but I've always felt it--leastways, all through my married
life. It's somethin' that makes me as mad as tophet when you start me
out to do anything I don't feel it's no ways right to do, and it keeps
whisperin' to me I'm a fool to do it. That's what it says, Myron.
'You're a fool to do it!'"

Myron was touched at last, through his armor of esteem.

"I ain't asked you to do what ain't right, Caddie," he asseverated.
"What makes you tell me I have?"

"That's what it says to me," she repeated fixedly. "'You're a fool to do
it.' That's what it says. It's my double personality."

It seemed best to Myron to humor this inexplicable mood, until he could
persuade her back into a normal one.

"That wa'n't the way I understood it," he told her, "when I read the
piece. The folks that were afflicted seemed like different folks. Now,
you ain't any different, rain or shine. You're as even as anybody I
should wish to see. That's what I've liked about ye, Caddie."

The softness of the implication she swept aside, as if she hardly dared
regard it lest it weaken her resolve.

"Oh, I ain't goin' to be the same, day in, day out," she declared
eagerly. "I feel I ain't, Myron. It's gettin' the best of me, the other
creatur' that wants to have its own way. It's been growin' and growin',
same as a child grows up, and now it's goin' to take its course. Same 's
Hermie's growed up, you kn