"An' what in the name of common sense is he doin' at my house!" exclaimed Mrs. Aleshine, her eyes sparkling with amazement and indignation. "Well, ma'am, for one thing," said the coxswain, "he's had the front door painted." "What!" cried Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine in one breath. "Yes," continued the coxswain; "the parson said he hated to see men hangin' around doin' nothin'. An' then he looked about, an' said the paint was all wore off the front door, an' we might as well go to work an' paint that, an' he sent Jim to a shop to git the paint an' brushes----" "An' have 'em charged to me?" cried Mrs. Aleshine. "Yes, ma'am," continued the coxswain. "An' Jim an' Bill holy-stoned all the old paint off the door an' I painted it, havin' done lots of that sort of thing on shipboard; an' I think it's a pretty good job, ma'am--red at top and bottom an' white in the middle, like a steamer's smoke-stack." Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine looked at each other. "An' he told you to do that?" said Mrs. Lecks. "Yes, ma'am," answered the coxswain. "The parson said he never liked to be nowhere without doin' what good he could. An' there was some other paintin' he talked of havin' done, but we ain't got at it yit. I s'posed he was actin' under your orders, an' I hope I haven't done no wrong, ma'am." "You're not a bit to blame," said Mrs. Aleshine; "but I'll look into this thing. No fear about that! An' how did he come to go to my house? An' how did he get in, I'd like to know?" "All I know about that," said the coxswain, "is what the gal that's livin' there told me, which she did along of askin' us if we was comin' to live there too, an' if she should rig up beds for us somewhere in the top-loft, but we told her no, not havin' no orders, an' payin' our own way at the tavern. She said, said she, that the parson come there an' 'lowed he was a friend of Mrs. Aleshine's an' travelin' with her, an' that if she was at home she wouldn't let him stay at no tavern; an' that knowin' her wishes he'd come right there, an' 'spected to be took care of till she come. She said she felt oncertain about it, but she tuck him in till she could think it over, an' then we come an' certified that he was the parson who'd been along with Mrs. Aleshine an' the rest of us. Arter that she thought it was all right, an', beggin' your pardon if we was wrong, so did Jim an' Bill an' me, ma'am." "Now," exclaimed Mrs. Aleshine, "if that isn't exactly like Elizabeth Grootenheimer! To think of Elizabeth Grootenheimer thinkin'! The Grootenheimers always was the dumbest family in the township, an' Elizabeth Grootenheimer is the dumbest of 'em all! I did say to myself when I went away: 'Now, Elizabeth Grootenheimer is so stone dumb that she'll jus' stay here an' do the little I tell her to do, an' hasn't sense enough to git into no mischief.' An' now, look at her!" She waved her hand in the direction of the invisible Elizabeth Grootenheimer.