The doctor leaped to his feet with a startled look. So did the mothers as well as every one else who was sitting down. They moved in a body to the side of the expiring chauffeur. About his couch they grouped, as it is painted that courts gather by the bedside of expiring monarchs to receive the royal farewell. Before the assembled multitude, Ike moaned and groaned in anguish of mind and body. Dr. Jackson examined him. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Ah done drink poison," Ike whined. "De col' chills is er runnin' down ma back an' ma laigs. Ah's gwine ter die." Serena drew near. Her extensive acquaintance with the young man made her skeptical in all things concerning him. She examined his surroundings with interest and cried, "Ef dat fool ain' got no bettah sense an' to lay hisse'f out on ma ice why ain' he got col' chills?" Lifting a sack, Dr. Jackson exposed the smooth surface of a block of ice. Ike sprang from his chilly couch. Serena made indignant outcry. "Howcum yo'all mek er coolin' boa'd out er ma ice when ah needs it fo' lemonade? Ah fin' out mighty quick ef you is er dyin' when ah surves de fried chicken." Disgust developed among the mothers; but Ike took no note of popular feeling. His was the joy of a reprieved man as his pains flew away before the reassuring laughter of the medical man. "Let's have something to eat," suggested the chuckling practitioner, when he had completed this cure by faith. As if by magic, the luncheon was spread, and how those blissfully contented mothers did eat and make the woods ring with the merriment of their holiday. The fun was given greater impetus by the reappearance of Mr. Jones who, pending the drying of his own more luxurious apparel, was clothed in garments of rural simplicity loaned by the farmer. Embarrassment spoke from every feature of the stenographer as, in the midst of laughter, he approached the festive spread. Virginia perceived his sad case and beckoned him to her side. "Here is Mr. Jones," she announced. "He suffered for the cause and shall be our guest of honor." With her own hands she arranged a place for him and saw that he had food enough for two men. This she made sweeter with smiles of approval and appreciation. The private secretary said but little. Yet the day became beautiful, and once again joy rested in his heart. In the coolness of Elgin's grove, the afternoon of the hottest day South Ridgefield ever experienced passed lazily. The mothers chatted and laughed and some took naps; but best of all the babies ate and slept in comfortable rotation as the hot hours passed. Upon repeated urgings by Mr. Quince the tired party re-embarked upon the _Nancy Jane_ after supper. The riverman explained gloomily, "I hain't got no use for this old river after dark. The government hain't hangin' no lanterns on the snags in the Lame Moose, and I hain't got nothin' to steer by but the lightnin' bugs."