Mrs. Penniman now wielded the palm-leaf fan.

" Mrs. Penniman spoke ingenuously, but it was downright lyingno less.

" "This is the worst yet," continued Mrs. Penniman.

Mrs. Penniman here coughed in a refined and artificial manner as a final preliminary.

The parrot instantly coughed in the same manner, andseeming to like itagain became Mrs. Penniman in a series of mild, throaty preliminary coughs, as if it would presently begin to tell something almost too good.

"Well," resumed Mrs. Penniman, feeling that the last value had been extracted from mere suspense, "anyway, it seems that this morning poor little Patricia Whipple was going by the old graveyard, and the twins jumped out and knocked her down and dragged her in there away from the road and simply tore every stitch of clothes off her back and made her dress up in Wilbur's clothes" "There!" gasped the horrified Winona.

"But something queer," went on Mrs. Penniman.

And the manner of their coming brought more bewilderment to the house of Penniman.

"Whatever in the world" began Mrs. Penniman, for Wilbur in the hollow of his arm bore a forked branch upon which seemed to perch in all confidence a free bird of the wilds.

Yes, sira beautiful present for every onethat will make a new man of poor old Judge Penniman, and this lovely orangethat's for Mrs. Pennimanand I bet Winona can't guess what's wrapped up in this box for herit's the most beautiful album, and this first-class animal for my father, and it'll last a lifetime if he takes care of it good; and I got me a dog to watch the house."

The sputtering gift-bringer bestowed the orange upon Mrs. Penniman, the album upon Winona, and the invigorator upon the now embarrassed judge.

Mrs. Penniman was first to recover her poise.

The Penniman cat, Mouser, a tawny, tigerish beast, had leaped to the porch.

This was for Mrs. Penniman, and caused her to bridle as she fancied a saluted duchess might.

His debased fancy would at times further have it that Judge Penniman was Louis XVIII, though at this moment, observing that the ladies were preoccupied with one of his sons, he paused by the invalid and expertly from a corner of his mouth whispered the coarse words, "Hello, Old Flapdoodle!"

His father now ceremoniously conducted Mrs. Penniman to what he spoke of as the banqueting hall.

She was relieved when the speaker strayed into the comparatively blameless field of astronomy, telling of suns so vast that our own sun became to them but a pin point of light, and of other worlds out in space peopled with beings like Mrs. Penniman and Winona and the judge, though even here Winona felt that the lecturer was too daring.

In the Penniman home it was not merely Sunday morning; it was Sabbath morning.

In the bathroom Judge Penniman shaved his marbled countenance with tender solicitude, fitting himself to adorn a sanctuary.

In other rooms Mrs. Penniman and Winona arrayed themselves in choice raiment for behoof of the godly; in each were hurried steppings, as from closet to mirror; shrill whisperings of silken drapery as it fell into place.

Also, Merle could be trusted to behave himself in the Penniman parlour, not touching the many bibelots there displayed, or disarranging the furniture, while the Wilbur twin would not only touch and disarrange, but pry into and handle and climb and altogether demoralize.

They reached the Penniman porch without further talk.

"Got his father's vagabond blood in his veins," declared Judge Penniman.

The boy had once stolen into the Penniman parlour while Lyman and Winona were out rifling the ice box of delicacies, and enticed by the glitter of Lyman's flute had thrillingly taken it into his hands to see what made it go, dropping it in his panic, from the centre table to the floor, when he heard their returning steps.

The Downfall of Travis Penniman.