grave.'"

"Them's Willie and Freddie Sparks. They was cute little fellers but it's awful t' think th' way they turned out, pa says. Willie's an editor and Freddie's a lawyer, and they work together jist fine. Willie gits into trouble, and Freddie, he gits him out."

"Perfessor Leander Crabb, that is. He's principal of th' Ellumwood high school and he's a tumble coffee drinker—two quart a day when he was writin' his book, 'Tokens of Hope, or Is This, Then, All?' Pa, he read th' book through, then he says, 'Well, I hope it is,' he says.

"Turn over."

"Them's ma's cousin Peter and his wife and baby, down t' Beardstown. He ain't handsome but he's an awful good man. Pa says onct Cousin Pete was to a party where there was a game t' give a prize t' th' one what'd make th' homeliest face, and th' judge walked right over t' Pete and give him th' prize, and Pete says, supprised like, 'Why, I ain't begun yit,' he says. I reckon it never reely happened; jist one of pa's jokes, I guess.

"Turn over."

"That's Cousin Charlie Freemantle—pa's cousin, he is. He's a rollin' stone—first one place, then another; never satisfied and never gittin' nothin' ahead. He ust t' be allus comin' 'round tellin' where he was goin' next and what big things he was goin' t' do when he got there, till ma got most awful tired of it and says t' him, 'Charlie,' she says, 'did yuh ever reflect that wherever yuh go yuh take yerself weth yuh?' she says.

"Turn over."

"That's Mr. and Mrs. Bundy. He was a nice man but she's quarrelsomer 'n all git out. Don't she look jist like a settin' hen? Onct when Mr. Bundy died why Mrs. Prescott that moved t' Peory she wrote Mrs. Bundy a real nice letter of consolence, I guess it is yuh call it—anyway, Mrs. Bundy fired up, quicker 'n a wink, and says, 'Uh-huh!' she says, 'well, that's all very nice but it don't pay fer that there spade and waterin' pot them Prescotts borruhed off 'm us and never brung back. I'll learn that tribe they can't soft-soap me!' she says.

"Turn over."

"That's Bige Turner. He ust t' work in th' print shop fer pa and he certainly was a bad aig, I want yuh t' know. Onct he slep' out on th' sidewalk in front of th' shop all night and pa took and tacked his clothes down all around and when Bige woke up next day he tried t' git up and couldn't and it scairt him most t' death and he hollered, 'Gosh! help! I'm paralyzed,' he says. 'Oh, no yuh ain't, Bige,' pa says, 'but you was yisteddy.'

"Turn over."