“Well, I don’t say you ain’t right,” said Cousin Egbert thoughtfully; “that’s one reason I got him out here where everything is nice. What with speaking pieces like an actor, I was afraid they’d have him making more kinds of a fool of himself than what Jackson does, him being a foreigner, and his mind kind o’ running on what clothes a man had ought to wear.” Hereupon, so flushed was I with the good feeling of the occasion, I told them straight that I had resolved to quit being Colonel Ruggles of the British army and associate of the nobility; that I had determined to forget all class distinctions and to become one of themselves, plain, simple, and unpretentious. It is true that I had consumed two of the hot grogs, but my mind was clear enough, and both my companions applauded this resolution. “If he can just get his mind off clothes for a bit he might amount to something,” said Cousin Egbert, and it will scarcely be credited, but at the moment I felt actually grateful to him for this admission. “We’ll think about his case,” said the Mixer, taking her own second toddy, whereupon the two fell to talking of other things, chiefly of their cattle plantations and the price of beef-stock, which then seemed to be six and one half, though what this meant I had no notion. Also I gathered that the Mixer at her own cattle-farm had been watching her calves marked with her monogram, though I would never have credited her with so much sentiment. When the retiring hour came, Cousin Egbert and I prepared to take our blankets outside to sleep, but the Mixer would have none of this. “The last time I slept in here,” she remarked, “mice was crawling over me all night, so you keep your shack and I’ll bed down outside. I ain’t afraid of mice, understand, but I don’t like to feel their feet on my face.” And to my great dismay, though Cousin Egbert took it calmly enough, she took a roll of blankets and made a crude pallet on the ground outside, under a spreading pine tree. I take it she was that sort. The least I could do was to secure two tins of milk from our larder and place them near her cot, in case of some lurking high-behind, though I said nothing of this, not wishing to alarm her needlessly. Inside the hut Cousin Egbert and I partook of a final toddy before retiring. He was unusually thoughtful and I had difficulty in persuading him to any conversation. Thus having noted a bearskin before my bed, I asked him if he had killed the animal. “No,” said he shortly, “I wouldn’t lie for a bear as small as that.” As he was again silent, I made no further approaches to him. From my first sleep I was awakened by a long, booming yell from our guest outside. Cousin Egbert and I reached the door at the same time. “I’ve got it!” bellowed the Mixer, and we went out to her in the chill night. She sat up with the blankets muffled about her.