At dinner-time, eleven people sat down to partake of the excellent repast furnished by Mrs. Smithers under the stimulus of pleasant talk. Harlan was at the head, with Miss St. Clair on his right and Mrs. Dodd on his left. Next to Miss St. Clair was the poet, whose deep sorrow did not interfere with his appetite. The twins were next to him, then Mrs. Holmes, then Willie, then Dorothy, at the foot of the table. On her right was Dick, the space between Dick and Mrs. Dodd being occupied by Uncle Israel. To a careless observer, it might have seemed that Uncle Israel had more than his share of the table, but such in reality was not the case. His plate was flanked by a goodly array of medicine bottles, and cups and bowls of predigested and patent food. Uncle Israel, as Dick concisely expressed it, was "pie for the cranks." "My third husband," remarked Mrs. Dodd, pleasantly, well aware that she was touching her neighbour's sorest spot, "was terribly afflicted with stomach trouble." "The only stomach trouble I've ever had," commented Mr. Chester, airily spearing another biscuit with his fork, "was in getting enough to put into it." "Have a care, young man," wheezed Uncle Israel, warningly. "There ain't nothin' so bad for the system as hot bread." "It would be bad for my system," resumed Dick, "not to be able to get it." "My third husband," continued Mrs. Dodd, disregarding the interruption, "wouldn't have no bread in the house at all. He et these little straw mattresses, same as you've got, so constant that he finally died from the tic doleroo. Will you please pass me them biscuits, Mis' Carr?" Mrs. Dodd was obliged to rise and reach past Uncle Israel, who declined to be contaminated by passing the plate, before she attained her desired biscuit. "Next time, Aunt Belinda," said Dick, "I'll throw you one. Suffering Moses, what new dope is that?" A powerful and peculiarly penetrating odour filled the room. Presently it became evident that Uncle Israel had uncorked a fresh bottle of medicine. Miss St. Clair coughed and hastily excused herself. "It's time for me to take my pain-killer," murmured Uncle Israel, pouring out a tablespoonful of a thick, brown mixture. "This here cured a Congressman in less 'n half a bottle of a gnawin' pain in his vitals. I ain't never took none of it yet, but I aim to now." The vapour of it had already made the twins cry and brought tears to Mrs. Dodd's eyes, but Uncle Israel took it clear and smacked his lips over it enjoyably. "It seems to be a searchin' medicine," he commented, after an interval of silence. "I don't misdoubt that it'll locate that pain that was movin' up and down my back all night last night."