"So Mrs. Browning has a baby at last?" she said as Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yep." "Boy, or a girl?" "One, or t'other, I forget which." "Really." "Yep, broke up the meetin' of the club so I heard." "How dreadfully funny." "And they say that Ezra Tweedie put his foot in it." "How was that?" "Why, he was the one that broke the glad news to the gatherin'." "Oh. What did you say they named the club?" "Four-o'clocks, or petunias--somethin' like that, it was the name of a flower anyway, I don't jest remember which." "And Mrs. Tweedie was chosen president?" "Yes, I knew she'd be." "Who was it, did you say, that told you?" "Well, I stopped in at the grocery on my way over, and then I had a bundle to take to Miss Sawyer's, and--Tommy Tweedie told me the rest. Now I guess I'll start in on the winders if you don't mind. I'm in a little mite of a hurry 'cause I've got to go over to Mis' Walton's this afternoon and give her a coat of paint." "Very well, you'll find the windows in the attic," said Mrs. Darling, reluctantly. "Oh, you said that you were at Miss Sawyer's this morning, how is she?" "Lookin' pretty fair," replied Sam with some embarrassment. "I thought that _you_ ought to know." "Where'd you say them storm-winders was?" Sam asked in an effort to change the subject. "In the attic. Miss Sawyer would make somebody a good wife." "I think likely, but--" Sam edged toward the door. "I've heard, Sam, that you've been going there lately, and that you did not always have a bundle to deliver." "You're kind of teasin', Mis' Darling, ain't yer?" replied Sam with a grin as he backed out of the room and went up-stairs in search of the storm-windows. Mrs. Darling was not wholly satisfied with second-hand news, so she ran into Mrs. Thornton's, next door; and, while the baby with a new tooth was having his morning "sample," his mamma related her version of the story of the first meeting of the club. In order to put on the front chamber windows, it was necessary for Sam to get out on the roof of the piazza. Just as he was climbing out of a window, Alick Purbeck, Mr. Stout's clerk, drove up, and when he saw Sam stopped. "Hello, Sam," he called, "what you doin' up there?" "Workin' for my health; doctor says I've got to have three meals a day." "Doctor nothin'." "No, Doctor Jones." "Say, what's this I hear about Billy Flint?" "Not knowin', I hesitate to say." Mrs. Darling's coffee had put Sam in a facetious mood. "There was a man lookin' for him over to the store half an hour ago," said Alick, gravely. "What d' he have, a bill or a warrant?" "Dunno." "I hope Billy ain't in any scrape." "Same here." "There ain't nothin' crooked about him." "That's what I say, but there's lots of folks in town that'll believe anything, 'specially now he's goin' 'round with Miss Wallace some, same's I heard this mornin' he was doin'." "She's all right, too," said Sam, enthusiastically.