pretended kittens.

For the first hour the talk ranged with obvious punctility over a
variety of subjects--but never once did Mr. Brotherton approach the
subject of politics, which would hold the Captain for a night session.
Instead, Mr. Brotherton spun literary tales from the shop. Then the
Captain broke in and enlivened the company with a description of Tom Van
Dorn's new automobile, and went into such details as to cams and cogs
and levers and other mechanical fittings that every one yawned and the
cat stretched himself, and the Captain incidentally told the company
that he had got Van Dorn's permission to try the Household Horse on the
old machine before it went in on the trade.

Then Ruth rose. "Why, Ruth, dear," said Emma sweetly, "where are you
going?"

"Just to get a drink, dear," replied Ruth.

But it took her all night to finish drinking and she did not return.
Martha rose, began straightening up the littered music on the piano, and
being near the door, slipped out. By this time the Captain was doing
most of the talking. Chiefly, he was telling what he thought the
sprocket needed to make it work upon an automobile. At the hall door of
the dining room two heads appeared, and though the door creaked about
the time the clock struck the half hour, Mr. Brotherton did not see the
heads. They were behind him, and four arms began making signs at the
Captain. He looked at them, puzzled and anxious for a minute or two.
They were peremptorily beckoning him out. Finally, it came to him, and
he said to the girls: "Oh, yes--all right." This broke at the wrong time
into something Mr. Brotherton was saying. He looked up astonished and
the Captain, abashed, smiled and after shuffling his feet, backed up to
the base burner and hummed the tune about the land that was fairer than
day. Emma and Mr. Brotherton began talking. Presently, the Captain
picked up the spitting cat by the scruff of the neck and held him a
moment under his chin. "Well, Emmy," he cut in, interrupting her story
of how Miss Carhart had told the principal if "he ever told of her
engagement before school was out in June, she'd just die," with:

"I suppose there'll be plenty of potatoes for the hash?"

And not waiting for answer, he marched to the kitchen with the cat, and
in due time, they heard the "Sweet Bye and Bye" going up the back
stairs, and then the thump, thump of the Captain's shoes on the floor
above them.

The eldest Miss Morton, in her best