"If they want a fire for their foolishness, let 'em light it. If they want a feller to fetch and carry, let 'em find somebody else. If they want somebody to buy presents for and play jackanapes to a passel o' young 'uns let 'em find a new Santa Claus. I've quit! I'll show 'em!" A stuttering blast like nothing so much as a foghorn with the croup next brought the ex-steward to his door and that before mid-forenoon. He knew the voice of Doctor Ambrose's automobile; and there the good physician was at the gate. The cranky mechanism of his car had developed symptoms which baffled any snap diagnosis. "Can't stop to fool with her at present," the doctor said jerkily, as 'Liphalet reached the scene. "I'm due at Carey Payne's right now. His oldest has got pneumonia sure's you're a foot high, 'Liphalet. I've been over to Suz Montevedo's, beyond The Beaches. He's got a relapse of his inflammatory rheumatism. Can't lift hand nor foot, and nobody to do for him." "Some o' these fool women that'll be playin' there in the church by an' by 'ud much better be doin' a neighborly turn for the Portugee," grumbled 'Liphalet. "Sue's gone over," Doctor Ambrose said, jerking his black bag out from under the seat of the stalled car. "She's left Pearl Holden to boss the trimmin' of the chapel. Well----" "She ain't gone to old Montevedo's shack alone?" demanded 'Liphalet. "In this mess o' weather? What in tarnation was you thinking of, Doc?" The physician flashed him a grim look. "I'm thinking you are about as much out o' kilter as this car of mine. Didn't you just say the women ought to tend to 'Suz? Well, that's what one of them's doing. Your liver's out of order, I tell you, 'Liphalet----" "You dumbhead!" roared 'Liphalet. "The gale 'ud blow a strong man off the surfman's path along the sand cliffs, let alone a frail woman. All you got in your mind is liver pills! Ha! I should think you'd have some sense." "It seems I haven't," responded the doctor coolly. "I reckon Sue can take care of herself. She's been out o' leadin' strings some years now," and he started off through the driving sleet without waiting for 'Liphalet's rejoinder. "Ha!" snorted the latter, trying to peer shoreward. "I dunno what's comin' over folks. All on 'em goin' plum crazy, I vum! Liver--ha! "What's a woman want to start off along The Beaches on a day like this for? And ye'd think even Doc Ambrose 'ud have more sense than to let her." Then, fussing and fuming, he buttoned tight the curtains and storm shield of the deserted car, and finally dragged a tarpaulin from his shed, and with difficulty pinned it securely over the entire car, blanketing the radiator so that it might not freeze. When the gale abated John-Ed Card or some other neighbor who owned a team of horses would come and drag the doctor's car home--a grateful service which none ever refused to perform for the busy physician. 'Liphalet retired to the kitchen and stoked the fire.