He hoped he would have the good fortune to be seated next to Miss Sally when the lunch time came, and he had little doubt that he would be near her, for it was likely that he and she, being strangers, would be put near the minister. He closed the book, seeing at length that it was impossible for him to read it, and, as the men began to bring the cushions from the buggies and place them around the cloth, he arose and went to bring his own to add to the supply. As he reached the fence, a barefoot boy, mounted on a horse with no other saddle than a blanket, came galloping down the road, and stopped before him. “Say,” said the boy, wide-eyed with importance, “is Sally Briggs in there?” Eliph' said she was. “Well, say,” said the boy, “she's got to go home to Kilo, right away. Her dad telephoned up, and he don't know whether he's dying or not, and she's got to go right home.” Eliph' turned and hurried to where Miss Sally was standing. “I hope it ain't nothing serious, Miss Briggs,” he said, “but that boy has come to give you a message that come by telephone. I think your father ain't well.” Miss Sally dropped the cake she was holding, and ran to the fence. “What is it?” she gasped. “Well,” said the boy, “my dad was in the post office just now, and the telephone bell rang, and he looked around to see where Julius was, and Julius he had gone outside to see what Mr. Fogarty, from up to the Corners, wanted. I don't know what he wanted. Pa didn't tell me. I don't know as pa knew, anyway, but I guess he wanted something, or else he wouldn't have motioned Julius to go out, unless he just wanted to talk to Julium. Mebby he just wanted to ask Julius if there was any mail for him. So pa answered the telephone.” “Well, what did it say?” asked Miss Sally impatiently. “You've got a pa, haven't you?” asked the boy. “Yes,” said Miss Sally. “Well, has he got false teeth?” asked the boy. “Yes,” said Miss Sally more impatiently. “Well, that's all right, then,” said the boy. “Pa couldn't tell exactly whether it was false teeth or not, the telephone at the post office works so poor, and pa ain't no hand at it, anyhow. He said it sounded like false teeth. So you pa wants you to come right home to Kilo. Mebby he's dying.” “Dying!” cried Miss Sally, as white as a sheet. “Yes, mebby he is,” continued the boy. “He ain't right sure, but he says you'd better come right home, so if he IS dying you'll be on hand. And, if he ain't, you can help him hunt for them. He says he went to bed last night, same as always, but he don't recall whether he took out his false set of teeth or left them in, and he ain't sure whether he swallowed them last night, or put them down somewheres and lost them. He says he's got a pain like he swallowed them, but he ain't sure but what it's some of the cooking he's been doing that give him that, and anyway he wants you to come right home.” “Goodness sakes!” exclaimed Miss Sally, “why don't he go see Doc Weaver?”