right hand impressively.

"You're a goldarn liar, Balaam, and, blast your old buttons, you kin
walk home by yourself, for I'm danged if you sh'll ride me er step."

Surely Coriolanus never turned his back upon Rome with a grander
dignity than sat upon the old man's form as he faced about and left
the brute to survey with anxious eyes the new departure of his master.

He saw the elder zigzag along the street, and beheld him about to turn
a friendly corner. Once more he lifted up his mighty voice:

"Drunk, drunk, drunk, drer-unc, drer-unc, -erunc, -unc, -unc."

Once more the elder turned with lifted hand and shouted back:

"You're a liar, Balaam, goldarn you! You're er iffamous liar." Then he
passed from view.


III

Mrs. Brown stood upon the steps anxiously awaiting the return of her
liege lord. She knew he had with him a large sum of money, or should
have, and she knew also that he was a man without business methods.
She had long since repented of the decision which sent him to town.
When the old battered hat and flour-covered coat loomed up in the
gloaming and confronted her, she stared with terror. The next instant
she had seized him.