h
us, holding me in her lap. Uncle Peabody and one of our neighbors had
been out in the woods all night with pine torches. I recall how,
although excited by my return, he took off his hat at the sight of my
new friend and said:

"Mr. Wright, I never wished that I lived in a palace until now."

He didn't notice me until I held up both feet and called: "Look a'
there, Uncle Peabody."

Then he came and took me out of the buggy and I saw the tears in his
eyes when he kissed me.

The man told of finding me on his little veranda, and I told of my ride
with Dug Draper, after which Uncle Peabody said:

"I'm goin' to put in your hoss and feed him, Comptroller."

"And I'm goin' to cook the best dinner I ever cooked in my life," said
Aunt Deel.

I knew that my new friend must be even greater than the Dunkelbergs, for
there was a special extravagance in their tone and manner toward him
which I did not fail to note. His courtesy and the distinction of his
address, as he sat at our table, were not lost upon me, either. During
the meal I heard that Dug Draper had run off with a neighbor's horse and
buggy and had not yet returned. Aunt Deel said that he had taken me with
him out of spite, and that he would probably never come back--a
suspicion justified by the facts of history.

When the great man had gone Uncle Peabody took me in his lap and said
very gently and with a serious look:

"You didn't think I meant it, did ye?--that you would have to go 'way
from here?"

"I don't know," was my answer.

"Course I didn't mean that. I just wanted ye to see that it wa'n't goin'
to do for you to keep on tippin' things over so."

I sat telling them of my adventures and answering questions, flattered
by their tender interest, until milking time. I thoroughly enjoyed all
that. When I rose to go out with Uncle Peabody, Aunt Deel demanded my
shoes.

"Take 'em right off," said she. "It ain't a goin' to do to wear 'em
common--no, sir-ee! They're for meetin' or when company comes--ayes!"

I regretfully took off the shoes and gave them to her, and thereafter
the shoes were guarded as carefully as the butternut trousers.

That evening as I was about to go up-stairs to bed, Aunt Deel said to my
uncle:

"Do you remember what ol' Kate wrote down about him? This is his first
peril an' he has met his first great man an' I can see that Sile Wright
is kind o' fond o' him."

I went to sleep that night thinking of the strange, old, ragged, s