"W-hew!" he said. "The man who invented a 21-inch collar ought to be forced to suck boiling starch through the neck of a Blueing Bottle!" We didn't see just why. The Old Doctor said he didn't care to discuss it. "Any news to-day?" asked my Father. "News enough!" said the Old Doctor. He seemed pretty mad about that too! "Such as what?" asked my Father. "There's a Prince and Princess in town!" said the Old Doctor. "Or a Duch and Duchess!--Or a Fool and Fooless!--I don't care what you call 'em!--They've got some sort of a claim on the old Dun Voolees estate. Brook,--meadow,--blueberry----hillside,--popple grove,--everything! They've come way from Austria to prove it! Going to build a Tannery! Or a Fertilizer Factory! Or some other equally odoriferous industry! Fill the town with foreign laborers!--String a line of lowsy shacks clear from the Blacksmith Shop to the river!--Hope they _choke_!" "Oh my dear--my dear!" said my Mother. The Old Doctor looked a little funny. "Oh I admit it's worth something," he said, "to have you call me your 'dear.'--But I'm mad I tell you clear through. And when you've got as much '_through_' to you as I have, that's _some mad_!--W-hew!" he said. "When I think of our village,--our precious, clean, decent, simple little All-American village--turned into a cheap--racketty--crowd-you-off-the-sidewalk Saturday Night Hell Hole...?" "Oh--Oh--OH!" cried my Mother. "Quick! Get him some raspberry shrub," cried my Father. "Maybe he'd like to play the Children's new Game!" cried my Mother. "It isn't a Game," I explained. "It's a Book!" My Mother ran to get the Raspberry Shrub. She brought a whole pitcher. It tinkled with ice. It sounded nice. When the Old Doctor had drunken it he seemed cooled quite a little. He put the glass down on the table. He saw the Book. He looked surprised.