Mary shook her head. "No!" she said. "They want to, I'm sure of that, but yet neither one of 'em will speak first. Such foolishness I never did see. Now take yesterday! Cousin Sam went to town, and Cousin Sim werried every single minute he was gone. The mare was skittish, and the harness might break, and he might meet the cars, and I don't know what all. If he called me off my work once he did a dozen times, till I thought I should fly. By the time Cousin Sam got back he was all worn out, and soon as he heard him safe in the house he dropped off asleep in his chair. Well! then 'twas all to do over again with Cousin Sam. How had Simeon been, and what had he been doin' while he was gone, and didn't I think he had a bad color at breakfast? Then Cousin Sim begun to snore, and Cousin Sam would have it that 'twarn't natural snorin', and he must be in a catamouse condition." "What did he mean by that?" asked Calvin. "That's what he said!" Mary replied. "It's a medical term, but I don't know as he got it just right. It means sleepin' kind of heavy and unhealthy, I understand. 'Well,' I says, 'Cousin Sam, just you step here and look at Cousin Sim!' So he did, and see him sound asleep with his mouth open, lookin' peaceful as a fish. He stood and looked at him a spell, and I see his mouth begin to work. 'There's nothin' catamouse about that sleep, Cousin!' I says. 'There couldn't a baby sleep easier than what he is.' He shakes his head mournful. 'Simeon's aged terrible since Ma went,' he says. He stood there lookin' at him a spell longer, and then he give a kind of groan and went back to his own chair. "Now, Mr. Parks, it's time this foolishness was put a stop to." "That's right!" said Calvin Parks. "That's so, Miss Hands. I believe you've got a plan to stop it, too." "I have!" said Mary Sands. "I've been studyin' it out while I was settin' here waitin' for you. This is Christmas Day, Mr. Parks; and if you'll help me, I believe we can bring it about to-day. Will you?" "Will I?" said Calvin Parks. "Will a dog bark?" * * * * * "Merry Christmas, Sam!" said Calvin Parks. "Same to you, Calvin, same to you!" said Mr. Sam. "Come in! come in! Shet the door after you, will ye?" Calvin shut the door into the entry. Mr. Sam glanced about him uneasily. "You might shet the other too, if you don't mind!" he said. "Thank ye! Have you seen Simeon this mornin', Calvin?" "Not yet," said Calvin. "I come straight in the front door and in here. What's the matter? Ain't he all right?" "Simeon is failin'!" replied Mr. Sam. "He's failin' right along, Calvin. I expect this is the last Christmas he'll see on earth. I--I was down street yesterday," he added, after a solemn pause, "and it occurred to me he hadn't had a new pair of slippers for a dog's age. I thought I'd get a pair, and mebbe you'd give 'em to him." "Mebbe I'd stand on my head!" retorted Calvin. "Give 'em to him yourself, you old catnip!"