"Mr. Frump had practical views of married life," suggested Matthew. "Amos was sensible in some things," said the carpenter. "But he was a queer feller, too. He allers had a notion of comin' home kind o' disguised, so that his wife shouldn't know him. I used to tell him that a few more years in Californy would make him so thin, yaller, and grizzly, that he wouldn't need no disguise." CHAPTER VI. REVELATIONS OF A LAUGH. The carpenter here burst out with an extraordinary peal of laughter. It was so very peculiar, that, once heard, it would always be identified with the person making it. This singular laugh consisted of a brilliant stacatto passage on a high key, interrupted by occasional snorts, and terminating with a slur which covered the whole descending octave. It was also very loud and very long. It had the effect of bringing Mrs. Frump to the door. She thrust out her head, unseen by either the carpenter or Matthew, and looked at the former with a wondering air. "It was an odd idea," said Matthew, laughing slightly out of compliment to the carpenter, though he could not understand what there was to laugh at. "And now," continued he, when the carpenter's cachinations had subsided, "I will explain to you my motive in asking all these questions. I am engaged to Mrs. Frump, and she is now--" The carpenter immediately broke into another of his remarkable laughs, louder and longer than before. "Well, sir," said Matthew, sarcastically, "when you get through, perhaps you will be good enough to tell me what you are laughing about?" "The idee--ha! ha!--of your--ha! ha!--marrying Mrs.--ha! ha! ha!" and the remainder of the sentence was lost in that monstrous laugh. Matthew, irritated by this most aggravating species of ridicule, took the carpenter's measure for a kick--but judiciously refrained from fitting him with one. The second of the carpenter's laughs had made the widow (still stealthily looking out of the door) turn pale. The third had inspired her with a painful curiosity, which she had determined to gratify, at any risk. Before the last laugh, she had, therefore, crept up, unobserved, near where Matthew and the carpenter were standing, with their backs toward her. Coming around suddenly in front of them, she saw the carpenter's mouth wide open, still in the act of laughing, and observed that one of his front teeth was out. The widow screamed, and fell--into Matthew's arms, nearly flooring him. "Hold on to her," said the carpenter. "She will come to in a minute." "Who, sir--who on earth _are_ you?" shouted Matthew, struggling under the burdensome widow and a sense of mental bewilderment. "I am Amos Frump," he replied, in a voice which had suddenly risen five notes. "The widow's husband! The dead come to life!" exclaimed Matthew, starting back, and nearly dropping the inanimate form.