oughtful of you!" said Calvin.

"Do you like it?" asked the maiden coyly.

"It's consid'able different from mince!" said Calvin. "Yes, it is a
remarkable pie," he added, after a second bite; "no two ways about
that. I never tasted one like it. Do you s'pose I could have just a mite
of butter on this biscuit, Miss Phrony?"

[Illustration: "WITH ONE SWIFT MOTION, CALVIN TRANSFERRED THE PIE FROM
HIS PLATE TO THE STOVE."]

Miss Phrony assented, and went into the pantry. Then, with one swift,
stealthy motion, Calvin Parks transferred the portion of pie from his
plate to the stove, replaced the stove-cover noiselessly, and was in his
seat and gazing placidly at his empty plate before Miss Phrony appeared
with the butter.

"Why, you've eat your pie real speedy!" she cried joyfully.

"It's all gone!" said Calvin soberly. "Not a mite left. No--no thank
you, not another morsel! but it certinly is a remarkable pie. Now if
you'll excuse me, I'll go in and have a pipe with the old lady."

"So do!" said Miss Phrony graciously. "I'll be in as soon as I've done
the dishes, Cap'n."

"Don't hasten!" said Calvin Parks earnestly.

Old Mrs. Marlin was still cowering over the stove, her fingers spread
like a bird's claws.

"Did you like your supper, Cap'n?" she asked, as Calvin entered.

"That's what!" replied Calvin enigmatically.

"It's all dust and ashes!" said the old lady unexpectedly.

"Well!" said Calvin. "I dono as I'd go so fur as that, quite, but it was
undeniable dry."

"Jesus'll kerry me through!" the widow went on, rocking herself back and
forth. "Dust and ashes, and Jordan rollin' past, rollin' past!" Her eyes
glittered, and her voice rose in a sing-song whine.

"Hold on there, old lady," said Calvin Parks. "Come out o' that now, and
let's be sociable Christmas night. I dono as you'd think it right and
proper to allow of me smokin', what?"

The glitter died out of the old lady's eyes; she stopped rocking, and
cackled gleefully; this time-worn joke never failed to delight her. With
eager, trembling fingers she brought out a cob pipe from a corner behind
the stove, and handed it to Calvin, who filled it from his own pouch and
returned it to her. Then he lighted his own pipe, and soon they were
puffing in concert. In the pantry close by Miss Phrony was rattling
dishes; they sounded like dry bones.

"There!" said Calvin comfortably. "Now you feel better, don't you, old
lady?"

The old lady nodded like a Salem