ster, a woman
who in addition to other qualities possessed the only sense of humor in
the family. She ushered the unsuspecting Chester into the kitchen, and
there, seated beside Joe and sipping a saucer of very hot coffee, was
Jethro Bass himself. Chester halted in the doorway, his face brick-red,
words utterly failing him, while Joe sat horror-stricken, holding aloft
on his fork a smoking potato. Jethro continued to sip his coffee.

"B-busy times, Chester," he said, "b-busy times."

Chester choked. Where were the burning words of denunciation which came
so easily to his tongue on other occasions? It is difficult to denounce a
man who insists upon drinking coffee.

"Set right down, Chester," said Mrs. Northcutt, behind him.

Chester sat down, and to this day he cannot account for that action. Once
seated, habit asserted itself; and he attacked the boiled dinner with a
ferocity which should have been exercised against Jethro.

"I suppose the stores down to the capital is finer than ever, Mr. Bass,"
remarked Mrs. Northcutt.

"So-so, Mis' Northcutt, so-so."

"I was there ten years ago," remarked Mrs. Northcutt, with a sigh of
reminiscence, "and I never see such fine silks and bonnets in my life.
Now I've often wanted to ask you, did you buy that bonnet with the
trembly jet things for Mis' Bass?"

"That bonnet come out full better'n I expected," answered Jethro,
modestly.

"You have got taste in wimmin's fixin's, Mr. Bass. Strange? Now I
wouldn't let Joe choose my things for worlds."

So the dinner progressed, Joe with his eyes on his plate, Chester silent,
but bursting with anger and resentment, until at last Jethro pushed back
his chair, and said good day to Mrs. Northcutt and walked out. Chester
got up instantly and went after him, and Joe, full of forebodings,
followed his brother-in-law! Jethro was standing calmly on the grass
plot, whittling a toothpick. Chester stared at him a moment, and then
strode off toward the barn, unhitched his horse and jumped in his wagon.
Something prompted him to take another look at Jethro, who was still
whittling.

"C-carry me down to the road, Chester--c-carry me down to the road?" said
Jethro.

Joe Northcutt's knees gave way under him, and he sat down on a sugar
kettle. Chester tightened up his reins so suddenly that his horse reared,
while Jethro calmly climbed into the seat beside him and they drove off.
It was some time before Joe had recovered sufficiently to arise a