face at
the table was turned towards him.

"How do you do, Professor?" said he. "Good afternoon, Mr. Stiles and Mr.
Wood. Ah, glad to see you, Mr. Hill," he added, as he espied Samuel Hill
at the farther end of the table.

The Professor's face grew crimson, then bright red, and finally assumed
a bluish tinge. Abner sat transfixed. The others at the table had a
charming diversity of expressions on their faces, ranging from "grave to
gay, from lively to severe." No one at the table enjoyed the situation
any more than Samuel Hill, who was very fond of a joke and who knew of
Quincy's intention to meet his enemy at close quarters.

For several minutes no one spoke. Betsy flew from one to the other
waiting upon table, but a solemn hush seemed to have fallen upon the
dinner party. Again Quincy broke the silence.

"I trust, gentlemen," said he, "that you will not let my presence
interfere with your usual conversation. I have no doubt Mr. Stiles can
tell us a good story, and I am equally sure that Professor Strout has
some entertaining bit of village gossip that he would like to
circulate."

Here Samuel Hill purposely dropped his fork upon the floor and was
obliged to get under the table to recover it, Betsy assisting him in the
search. When they emerged from under the table their faces were red with
their exertions.

As we have seen on other occasions, the Professor was very quick in
rescuing himself from any dilemma into which he might be thrown. He saw
an opportunity to divert attention from himself and speedily improved
it.

"I think I'll have to walk over and see Miss Tilly James this
afternoon," said the Professor.

At this shot at Samuel Hill and Betsy everybody laughed, including
Quincy, and thus the ice was broken.

"I've heard some pretty big lies told in my life," said Robert Wood,
"but I think Abel Coffin, yer know him, Professor, old Jonathan Coffin's
son, the one that goes carpenterin', he lives over in Montrose, yer
know, can beat anybody we've got in this town, not exceptin' you,
Stiles;" and he gave the latter a nudge with his elbow that nearly
knocked him out of his chair.

"Tell us the story, Robert," said the Professor, who had recovered his
self-complacency; "we're dyin' to hear it."

"Well," continued Robert Wood, "Abel had been shinglin' a house, and I
told him there wuz a place where he'd left off a shingle. Abel laughed
and, sez he, 'If I hadn't better eyesight than you've got I'd carry a