says, astonished.

"'Yes,' says the sweet sample of girl. 'Your son, you know, Mister
Samuel Mills; he's in the front room interviewing ma.'

"'My son!' I ejaculates weakly, the thermometer in my spinal backbone
going up ten thousand degrees hotter.

"'Such an oldish son, too,' she says, sinfully joyous, 'for such a
youngish father. He must have been two years old the day you were born.
Genius is cert'nly a wonderful phenomenus!'

"I set there a minute, wilted, but nervous. Then I got hot, and arose in
anger.

"'My son!' I says, scornful. 'So that's what he says, it is? Disgracing
his father in that way! All right for him! I disown him out of my
family. And I furthermore remark that he ain't my son, nor never was.'

"'Well,' she says, 'you needn't get so hot about it. He's a hard worker.
He's been here all day.'

"'I ain't hot,' I says, forgetting that my temperature was torrid plus
glowing, 'but I'm mad to think that that boy which I hired to sell my
book should pass himself off as my son, and then stay talking all day
in one place, instead of selling books throughout the promiscuous
neighborhood.'

"'Then,' she says, as if for the first time seeing light, 'that young
man in their ain't no son of the author of this "Sin" book?'

"'Never; subsequent nor previous, nor wasn't, nor will be,' I solemnly
made prevarication.

"'Well,' she says, 'he said he was when he come in; and me and ma didn't
think it likely an author person would have his son out book-peddling,
so we asservated back that he wasn't; and him and ma has been having a
high-grade talking match all day in the front parlor to convince each
other otherwise than what they are convinced of.'

"'Him,' continued the lovely girl, 'says he'll sell ma a book BECAUSE
he's the son of the author thereof, and ma says she'll buy a book if he
owns up truthful that he ain't the son of the author thereof. She says
that if she buys a book off of him when he's making false witness of
having a talented dad she'll be encouraging lying, which she can't do,
being a full-blood Baptist. So they've got a deadlock, and the jury is
hung, and the plurality is equal and unbiased on both sides, and up to
date nobody wins.'

"'Then,' I says, 'I don't sell no "Wage of Sin" do I?'

"'Not as no author if it,' she says. 'If you want to tackle us as a
common book agent, you'll find us right in the market.'

"'Katie,' I says, 'call your ma out here a minute. If I can sell a cop