“'Him,' continued the lovely girl, 'says he'll sell ma a book BECAUSE he's the son of the author thereof, and ma says she'll buy a book if he owns up truthful that he ain't the son of the author thereof. She says that if she buys a book off of him when he's making false witness of having a talented dad she'll be encouraging lying, which she can't do, being a full-blood Baptist. So they've got a deadlock, and the jury is hung, and the plurality is equal and unbiased on both sides, and up to date nobody wins.' “'Then,' I says, 'I don't sell no “Wage of Sin” do I?' “'Not as no author if it,' she says. 'If you want to tackle us as a common book agent, you'll find us right in the market.' “'Katie,' I says, 'call your ma out here a minute. If I can sell a copy of this volume I am willing to sell my birthmark for a mess of potash any day of the week.' “'That,' she says, cheerful, 'is spoke like a financier and a gentleman.' “With that she started for the front room, but just then the door swung open, and out came her ma and Sammy, tired with fatigue, but satisfied. “'What!' says the young daughter, 'is the tie untied? Is the jawfest concluded?' “'It is,' says the maternal ancestor of that girl, weak but happy. 'We talked seven miles and six furloughs, but I won. He has renounced his sin. He ain't no son of no author. I've boughten his book.' “I gazed at Sammy with a moist, reproachful eye. “'Sammy! Sammy!' I says, shaking my head, 'to think----' “'Hush!' he says, 'don't say it. I ain't no Sammy. I ain't no Mills. Them is not my name.' “'Alas!' I says, mournful, 'am I then deceived since childhood's happy hours?' “I see the respectable old lady pricking up her ears and getting ready for another season of conversation. Sammy likewise made the same observation, and he fended off the deadly blow. “'Yes,' he says, 'I have deceived you. My name is----' “He stopped and looked doubtful and perplexed, and scratched his ear with his forepaw. “'My name is----' he says, and stops, and then he turns to the elderly female, and asks desperate: 'What in tunket did I say my name was?' “'Hewlitt,' she says, 'Eliph' Hewlitt.' “'Oh, yes!' says Sammy, 'that's it. I guess I'll just write that down, so as to have it handy. You know,' he says, looking at me, 'my memory's awful bad since I had the scarlet fever. It's terrible. Why, when I come in here I knowed I had SOMETHING to say about this book, and I tried to remember, and I seemed to remember that I was the son of the author who authored it. I never come so near lying in my life. I'm all in a tremble over it to think how near to lying I was! An' I got the notion Eliph' Hewlitt was the name of a horse.' “'Ma,' says Katie, giving me a wicked smile, 'this here other young man has got a bad scarlet fever memory, too. HE'S come near to lying, likewise. You'd ought to speak a few words of helpfulness with him, too!'