uples. She took a swallow of the wine.

"How do you like it," asked David.

"Well," she said as she wiped her eyes, into which the gas had driven
the tears, "I guess I could get along if I couldn't have it regular."

"Don't taste good?" suggested David with a grin.

"Well," she replied, "I never did care any great for cider, and this
tastes to me about as if I was drinkin' cider an' snuffin' horseredish
at one and the same time."

"How's that, John?" said David, laughing.

"I suppose it's an acquired taste," said John, returning the laugh and
taking a mouthful of the wine with infinite relish. "I don't think I
ever enjoyed a glass of wine so much, or," turning to Aunt Polly, "ever
enjoyed a dinner so much," which statement completely mollified her
feelings, which had been the least bit in the world "set edgeways."

"Mebbe your app'tite's got somethin' to do with it," said David,
shoveling a knife-load of good things into his mouth. "Polly, this young
man's ben livin' on crackers an' salt herrin' fer a week."

"My land!" cried Mrs. Bixbee with an expression of horror. "Is that
reelly so? 'T ain't now, reelly?"

"Not quite so bad as that," John answered, smiling; "but Mrs. Elright
has been ill for a couple of days and--well, I have been foraging around
Purse's store a little."

"Wa'al, of all the mean shames!" exclaimed Aunt Polly indignantly.
"David Harum, you'd ought to be ridic'lous t' allow such a thing."

[Illustration: DAVID HARUM, Act III]

"Wa'al, I never!" said David, holding his knife and fork straight up
in either fist as they rested on the table, and staring at his sister.
"I believe if the meetin'-house roof was to blow off you'd lay it on to
me somehow. I hain't ben runnin' the Eagle tavern fer quite a
consid'able while. You got the wrong pig by the ear as usual. Jes' you
pitch into him," pointing with his fork to John. "It's his funeral, if
anybody's."

"Wa'al," said Aunt Polly, addressing John in a tone of injury, "I do
think you might have let somebody know; I think you'd ortter 've
known----"

"Yes, Mrs. Bixbee," he interrupted, "I did know how kind you are and
would have been, and if matters had gone on so much longer I should have
appealed to you, I should have indeed; but really," he added, smiling at
her, "a dinner like this is worth fasting a week for."

"Wa'al," she said, mollified again, "you won't git no more herrin'
'nless you ask for 'em."

"That is just what your brother sa