“I know it. I wisht I was goin', too, but I never have no fun. Have to stay to home and work and slave over them consarned tax papers. Sometimes I wish there wa'n't no taxes.” “Humph! I've wished that, myself, more'n once. Why don't you go, if you want to? Climb right aboard here with me. Plenty of room.” “Hey? You mean that? By godfreys mighty! I'd like to.” “Sartin, I mean it. Come ahead.” Mr. Pepper sadly shook his head. “I guess likely I'd better not,” he sighed. “Laviny might not like to have me leave her.” “Oh, fiddlesticks! she won't mind. I'll take care of you. It's perfectly safe. There ain't goin' to be no women around. Haw! haw! haw!” He was still laughing at his own joke when through the slats of the closed blinds shading the Pepper house parlor a shrill voice was heard speaking. “Go ahead, 'Bishy dear,” called Lavinia. “Go ahead and go. A change of air'll do you good.” Kyan whirled and clutched at the gate. “HEY?” he shouted in amazement. “Are you deef? Or is Mr. Ellis laughin' so hard that you can't hear? What is it that's so funny, Mr. Ellis?” The light-keeper shut off his laughter by a sudden and rather frightened gulp. “Oh, nothin', nothin', Miss Pepper. Nice day, ain't it?” “I guess so. I ain't had time to look at it yet. I have to work. I can't let my wife do it for me, like some folks, and take 'days off.' What was it you was laughin' at, Mr. Ellis?” “Nothin', nothin' at all.” “Hum! They used to tell me there was only one kind of person who laughed at nothin'. Well, 'Bish Pepper, what are you standin' there for? If you're goin', come right into the house and change your clothes this minute.” Kyan obeyed. Shortly he reappeared, clothed like a lily of the field, one that had long since gone to seed. He clambered up beside Noah and they drove off. “Jerushy!” exclaimed the lightkeeper. “This is kind of unexpected, ain't it? What's got into her to make her so accommodatin'?” “Godfreys mighty!” was the dazed reply, “I don't know. This as fast as you can drive? Hurry up, afore she changes her mind.” So it happened that Mr. Pepper was in Bayport with the rest, awaiting the stage which was bringing Trumet's latest celebrity from Sandwich. “Here she comes!” shouted Ezra Simmons, the postmaster. “Right on time, too.” Sure enough! A cloud of dust in the distance, rising on the spring wind, and the rattle of rapidly turning wheels. The reception committee prepared for action. Captain Elkanah descended from the carriage and moved in stately dignity to the front of the post-office platform. “Hum--ha!” he barked, turning to his followers. “Be ready now. Give him a good cheer, when I say the word. Let it be hearty--hearty, yes.” The stage, its four horses at a trot, swung up to the platform. “Whoa!” roared the driver. “Now!” ordered Elkanah. “One--two--Hurrah!”