came in. She looked in wonder at the others, for both were making wry faces.
"It's the candy, Aunt Mabel!" cried the young lady. "It—it tastes so queer!"
"Ha! Let me see that box?" exclaimed the aunt, who was a portly person. "I read in the newspaper only yesterday of some folks being poisoned by eating cheap candy." And she looked severely at poor Tubbs.
"This is—er—not cheap candy, my dear Mrs. Garlett," spluttered William Philander. "It is some of the best to be had in Ashton, I assure you."
By this time the lady had taken something from the box and was sampling it. As it chanced to be a piece of the rubber band she made slow progress in chewing it.
"I never saw such candy!" she declared, with vigor. She took another piece. "That was all right," she added, a moment later. "But this piece! Why, I declare, it tastes like wax! And it is wax, too," she continued, inspecting the lump more closely.
"Wax!" gasped poor William Philander, hollowly.
"Yes, wax, Mr. Tubbs."
"Oh, you must be mistaken, my dear Mrs. Garlett!"
