wife's hands, much to Myron's discomfort in subsequent years.
"Oh well, let him read it then," said Louise, unwilling to snatch one of Myron's few pleasures out of his hand. She entered the parlor, and sat on the end of the sofa.
"If he'd do more of his readin' on his square, as I tell him, maybe I wouldn't have to slave my head off runnin' a hotel," Mrs. Cowgill said bitterly, at war on every point with all manner of printed matter that was not pressed into steel. "Now, there goes Herby over to the saloon! Banjo, I wish you'd go after him and tell him to let that slop alone. Tell him I said he'd better remember he's got to go out on his run tonight, and to let that slop alone!"
Banjo was not reluctant to go. He felt that he could carry a shot or two very cheerfully that gloomy day himself.
"I guess he's just goin' over to play a game of seven-up," said he, rising, making preparation to follow. "Well, Louise, how're you stackin' up?"
"I'm as gay as possible, Mr. Banjo."
"Mr. Banjo!" Mrs. Cowgill repeated in comical astonishment, as she might have exclaimed over finding a ribbon on the handle of her frying pan. Then she laughed, shrilly, in sudden outbreak, according to her habit, very little change in her facial expression indicative of mirth except her wide-stretched mouth.
"I thought you might be in love," said Banjo, face-
