It was the thought of this opportunity to get a buffalo-skin coat that consoled Uncle Ethan as he saw the hideous black letters appearing under the agent's lazy brush. It was the hot side of the barn, and painting was no light work. The agent was forced to mop his forehead with his sleeve. "Say, hain't got a cooky or anything, and a cup o' milk handy?" he said at the end of the first enormous word, which ran the whole length of the barn. Uncle Ethan got him the milk and cooky, which he ate with an exaggeratedly dainty action of his fingers, seated meanwhile on the staging which Uncle Ripley had helped him to build. This lunch infused new energy into him, and in a short time "DODD'S FAMILY BITTERS, Best in the Market," disfigured the sweet-smelling pine boards. * * * * * Ethan was eating his self-obtained supper of bread and milk when his wife came home. "Who's been a-paintin' on that barn?" she demanded, her bead-like eyes flashing, her withered little face set in an ominous frown. "Ethan Ripley, what you been doin'?" "Nawthin'," he replied, feebly. "Who painted that sign on there?" "A man come along an' he wanted to paint that on there, and I let 'im; and it's my barn, anyway. I guess I can do what I'm a min' to with it," he ended, defiantly; but his eyes wavered. Mrs. Ripley ignored the defiance. "What under the sun p'sessed you to do such a thing as that, Ethan Ripley? I declare I don't see! You git fooler an' fooler ev'ry day you live, I _do_ believe." Uncle Ethan attempted a defense. "Well, he paid me twenty-five dollars f'r it, anyway." "Did 'e?" She was visibly affected by this news. "Well, anyhow, it amounts to that; he give me twenty-five bottles"---- Mrs. Ripley sank back in her chair. "Well, I swan to Bungay! Ethan Ripley--wal, you beat all I _ever_ see!" she added in despair of expression. "I thought you had _some_ sense left, but you hain't, not one blessed scimpton. Where _is_ the stuff?" "Down cellar, an' you needn't take on no airs, ol' woman. I've known you to buy things you didn't need time an' time 'n' agin, tins and things, an' I guess you wish you had back that ten dollars you paid for that illustrated Bible." "Go 'long an' bring that stuff up here. I never see such a man in my life. It's a wonder he didn't do it f'r two bottles." She glared out at the sign, which faced directly upon the kitchen window. Uncle Ethan tugged the two cases up and set them down on the floor of the kitchen. Mrs. Ripley opened a bottle and smelled of it like a cautious cat. "Ugh! Merciful sakes, what stuff! It ain't fit f'r a hog to take. What'd you think you was goin' to do with it?" she asked in poignant disgust. "I expected to take it--if I was sick. Whaddy ye s'pose?" He defiantly stood his ground, towering above her like a leaning tower. "The hull cartload of it?" "No. I'm goin' to sell part of it an' git me an overcoat"----