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drink. Nessie herself drank it to keep from having a headache, she said. No one ever thought of the strangeness of Scovell House coffee preventing a headache.

Abner held his fork with his first and third fingers outside the handle and his second and little fingers on the inner or body side. His thumb opposed his index finger. This was the peculiar grasp of all hill youths as they clutch at straws of propriety when shipwrecked on social seas.

As breakfast proceeded in this unsure fashion, the table boy emerged from the kitchen, came up behind Abner, and said in a low thick voice, "Gemman wants to see you, Mistuh Abnah."

Abner looked around blankly.

"Wants to see me?"

"Yes, suh."

Abner was amazed. Never before in his life had he been called out by a gentleman. Now, coming on him like this at mealtime, he didn't know what to do. He made a move to go but corrected that as faulty. He remembered he should ask somebody's pardon, he didn't know whose. In rising he spilled his coffee. This unmanned him completely.

"I—I hope you'll pardon me," he stammered. Then stiff with self-consciousness, he started for the door.

"It's de back do', Mistuh Abnah," said the Negro.

Abner was overwhelmed. To have a guest at the back door! He turned beet-red and started for the kitchen door. The floor seemed to wobble beneath his feet. When he reached the back door he had to stare for several seconds before he recognized the tall awkward form of Zed Parrum.

"Was you eatin' breakfast?" asked Zed in a contrite voice.

Abner nodded and cleaned his teeth nervously with his tongue.

"If I'd a-knowed it, I wouldn't of disturbed you."

"That's all right, Zed, this time, but fur God's sake don't never do it no more."

"This was a case of pushancy," explained Zed in an undertone. He backed away from the door into the desolation