"This coffee, Sally," continued the professor, "would be better if the storm had been less severe. But it does very well. It is most excellent coffee. It is probably better for my health than it would be with cream. For, do you know, Sally, I am well convinced that cream with coffee forms quite another substance, which is deleterious to health and destructive of the ability to sleep, although affecting in no way the desire to do so. And that, Sally, is most unpleasant." Professor Ladue was speaking in his lecture-room voice and very seriously. Sally was smiling. As he finished, the smile grew into a chuckle and she choked. Charlie, having taken an extraordinarily large mouthful, and being diverted from the ensuing process by the choking of Sally, also choked. "Sally," said the professor calmly, "your little brother needs your attention. He needs it rather badly, it seems to me." For Charlie had his mouth open and was getting red in the face. Sally got up hastily and pounded Charlie on the back. That measure being ineffective, she shook him violently. He gasped twice. "Want to race," he exploded. The professor looked surprised. "An eating race, Charlie?" he asked. "Why, my dear boy, I shouldn't stand a ghost of a chance with you. We might make it a handicap, but, even then--" "Shoveling race," Charlie explained. "You have the great big snow-shovel an' Sally have the middle-sized shovel an' I have the little snow-shovel, an' we race to see who can get the most done." "Brilliant idea, Charlie, positively glittering," his father returned. "But it would hardly be fair to start us all from scratch, I am afraid. Better make it a handicap, eh?" "Yes," Charlie replied, not knowing in the least what a handicap was. Neither did Sally. "What is a handicap, father?" she asked. Her father explained. "Oh," she said, approving, "then it makes the race fair, doesn't it? Every one has as much chance of winning as everybody else. I think that is nice." "It is an attempt in that direction, Sally. But there are many things about it, about--er--racing--of any kind, that it is just as well you shouldn't know. So I will not try to explain. If every one concerned acts fairly, Sally, and with good judgment, it is nice, as you say." Sally was not going to be put off. "Why doesn't everybody act fairly?" The professor waved his hand and shrugged his shoulders; but before he could make any other reply, the door opened softly. He welcomed the opening of the door. It put a stop to Sally's questioning, which was apt to become embarrassing, in certain cases. A glance at Sally's face would have told Professor Ladue who had opened the door, but it is to be supposed that he knew. Sally jumped up and ran; and the professor rose--rose with some alacrity--and turned. "Good morning, Sarah," he said pleasantly. "We are all glad to see you. I hope you are feeling better."