gee
shirt. He wears spectacles and has a way of throwing back his head and
peering at people before answering them. The_ REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY _sets
his umbrella in the hall and the_ COLONEL _hangs his broad-brimmed hat on
the handle--as though to let it drip._

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. Brr! I believe it's raining icicles.

COLONEL LAWTON. [_Taking off his overshoes._] Gee Whillikins! What a day!
Good thing the old windmill out yonder is tied up. Great weather for
baptisms, Parson. [_There is a faint, far-away rumble of thunder._
FREDERIK _enters._] Well, here we are, Frederik, my boy--at the time you
mentioned.

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. How are you, Frederik?

COLONEL LAWTON _crosses to the fire, followed by the_ REV. MR.
BATHOLOMMEY.

FREDERIK. [_Who has gone to the desk for a paper lying under a
paper-weight._] I sent for you to hear a memorandum left by my uncle. I
only came across it yesterday. [_There is a louder peal of thunder. A
flash of lightning illuminates the room._

COLONEL LAWTON. I must have drawn up ten wills for the old gentleman, but
he always tore 'em up. May I have a drink of his plum brandy, Frederik?

FREDERIK. Help yourself. Pastor?

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. Er--er--

COLONEL LAWTON _goes to the sideboard and pours out two drinks from a
decanter. A heavy roll of thunder now ends in a sharp thunderclap._ MRS.
BATHOLOMMEY, _who is entering the room, gives a cry and puts her hands
over her face._ COLONEL LAWTON _bolts his whiskey. The_ REV. MR.
BATHOLOMMEY _takes a glass and stands with it in his hand._

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [_Removing her hands in time to see the brandy._] Why,
Henry! What are you doing? Are your feet wet?

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. No, Rose; they're not. I want a drink and I'm going
to take it. It's a bad night. [_Drinks._

COLONEL LAWTON. [_Throws a hickory log on the fire, which presently blazes
up, making the room much lighter._] Go ahead, Frederik. [_Sits._

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY _has drawn up a chair for his wife, and now seats
himself before the snapping hickory fire._

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. I knew that your uncle would remember his friends
and his charities. He was so liberal! One might say of him that he was the
very soul of generosity. He gave in such a free-handed, princely fashion.

FREDERIK. [_Reading in a businesslike manner._] For Mrs. Batholommey--

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. The dear man--to think that he remembered me! I knew
he'd remember the church and Mr. Batholommey,