WHEN THE BLACK SPOT HIT
there," he had advised her. " I got a black speck in my brain, and every time it hits the top of my head I get an idea — I think it's goin' to strike directly."
The present visit was evidence that it had done so. The situation was one which demanded all his subtlety, but what possible bearing the deep interest with which he was eying the garment Mrs. Taylor was repairing could have upon it, the most astute would have found it difficult to imagine.
The bifurcated article of wearing apparel was of out- ing flannel, roomy where amplitude was most needed, gathered at the waist with a drawstring, confined at the ankle by a deep rufile — a garment of amazing ugliness.
" I suppose," Teeters ventured guilelessly, " them things is handier than skirts to git over fences and do chores in? " Then, with an anticipatory air, he waited.
He was not disappointed. Mrs. Taylor laid down her work and, throwing back her head, burst into laughter that was ringing, Homeric, reverberating through the house like some one shouting in a canyon. It continued until Teeters was alarmed lest he had overdone matters
She subsided finally and, wiping her streaming eyes on a rufHe, shook a playful finger at him :
" Clarence, jrou are killing — simply killing! "
Teeters did not deny it. He had not yet recovered from the fear that he might be. But he had accomplished what he had intended — he had furnished Mrs. Taylor with the " one good laugh a day " which she declared her health and temperament demanded.
After a pensive silence Teeters looked up wistfully:
" I wonder if you and Miss Maggie would sing some- thin'. I git a reg'lar cravin' to hear good music."
Mrs. Taylor laid down her work with a pleased ex-
pression.
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