"I know, my dear, but you see Bunch has an awful lot of family happenings to discuss with his relatives," I said; "and we must give him a chance to get acquainted with Uncle Cornelius and Aunt Flora." Whereupon I grabbed my hat and ducked for another eat shop without ever glancing at Bunch. CHAPTER V. JOHN HENRY GETS EXCITED. The next day being Sunday, I determined to forget all my troubles and take Peaches out buggy riding. I felt sure that Bunch was rid of his grouch by this time, and that he wouldn't have a rock in his hat for me for pulling that "Uncle Cornelius" gag. I rather expected he'd show up at Ruraldene some time Sunday evening. At any rate, I was sure Skinski and the Dodo bird had conned him back to real life, and that by Monday morning he'd be ripe for work again. Peaches and Aunt Martha said very little about Bunch's new relatives. They decided that "Uncle Cornelius" was eccentric and rather interesting, but when they thought of "Aunt Flora" they both got nervous and changed the subject. When I suggested the buggy ride to Peaches she was delighted, and I moseyed for the Ruraldene livery stable to get staked to a horse. Anybody who has ever lived in a suburban town will doubtless recall what handsome specimens of equine perfection may be found in the local livery stable--not. The livery man at Ruraldene is named Henlopen Diffenbingle, and he looks the part, I judged from the excited manner in which he grabbed my deposit money that morning that he had a note falling due next day. Then Henlopen shut his eyes, counted six, turned around twice, multiplied the day of the week by 19, subtracted 17, and the answer was a cream-colored horse with four pink feet and a frightened face, which looked at me sadly, sighed deeply and then backed up into the shafts of a buggy with red wheels and white sulphur springs. [Illustration: The answer was a cream-colored horse which looked at me sadly.] The livery man said that the name of the horse was Parsifal, because it seemed to go better in German. I drove Parsifal up to our modest home, and all the way there we ran neck and neck with a coal cart. Parsifal used to be a fast horse, but quite some time ago he stopped eating his wild oats and now leads a slower life. When I reached the gate I whistled for Peaches, because I was afraid to get out and leave Parsifal alone. He might go to sleep and fall down. My wife came out, looked at the rig, and then went back in the house and bade everybody an affecting farewell. There were tears in her eyes when she came out and climbed into the buggy. She said she was crying because Aunt Martha wasn't there to see us driving away and have the laugh of her life. We started off and we were rushing along the road, passing a fence and overtaking a telegraph pole every once in a while, when suddenly we heard behind us a very insistent choof-choof-choof-choof!