ambled toward the door on legs bent to the cruel curve of
rheumatism. The sun had dropped into a bursting west, and was as red as
a mist of blood. Its reflection lay on the smooth lawn and hung in the
dark shadows of quiet trees, and through the fulvous haze of evening's
first moment came the chirruping of crickets.

"I wish I was so far away as the bottom of the ocean."

The tight-springed screen door sprang shut on his words, and his
footsteps shambled across the wide ledge of porch. A silence fell across
the little dining-table, and Miss Binswanger wiped at fresh tears, but
her mother threw her a confident gesture of reassurance.

"Don't say no more now for a while, children."

Mr. Isadore Binswanger inserted a toothpick between his lips and
stretched his limbs out at a hypotenuse from the chair.

"I'm done. I knew the old man would jump all over me."

"Izzy, you and Poil go on now; for the theater you won't catch the
seven-ten car if you don't hurry. Leave it to me, Poil; I can tell by
your papa's voice we got him won. How he fusses like just now don't make
no difference; you know how your papa is. Here, Poil, lemme help you
with your coat."

"I--I don't want to go, mamma!"

"_Ach_, now, Poil, you--"

"If you're coming with me you'd better get a hustle. I ain't going to
hang around this graveyard all evening."

Her brother rose to his slightly corpulent five feet five and shook his
trousers into their careful creases. His face was a soft-fleshed rather
careless replica of his mother's, with a dimple-cleft chin, and a
delicate down of beard that made his shaving a manly accomplishment
rather than a hirsute necessity.

"Here on the sideboard is your hat, Poil--powder a little around your
eyes. Just leave papa to me, Poil. _Ach_, how sweet that hat with them
roses out of stock looks on you! Come out here the side way--_ach_, how
nice it is out here on the porch! How short the days get--dark nearly
already at seven! Good-by, children. Izzy, take your sister by the arm;
the whole world don't need to know you're her brother."

"Leave the door on the latch, mamma."

"Have a good time, children. Ain't you going to say good-by to your
papa, Poil? Your worst enemy he ain't. Julius, leave Billy
alone--honest, he likes that cat better as his family. Tell your papa
good-by, Poil."

"I--said--good-by."

"She should say good-by to me only if she wants to. Izzy, when you go
out the gate drive back that rooster--I