"Now wouldn't that jar you?" said Daddy. "Wouldn't it inculcate into you
a chastened spirit? Doesn't he consider me as an important patient? Just
comes in and grins and runs away again, for a couple of days, as if I
were not likely to need him at any moment. He's the limit!"
"I don't really think he is going away just for the fun of it," I
objected.
At this moment Susie Sweetapple burst into the room like a Black Hand
bomb. It is one of her little ways.
"Parson's coming," she declared, breathlessly, and nodded her head
violently to emphasize the importance of her statement.
"I suppose it is Mr. Barnett," I said. "They expected him back to-day. He
has been away to a place they call Edward's Bay."
"I presume it is," assented Daddy. "His arrival appears to cause the same
sort of excitement on this population as the fire-engines produce among
the juveniles of New York, judging from Susie's display."
The girl had run to the door and opened it widely. Then she backed away
before a little man who removed a clerical hat that was desperately green
from exposure to the elements, and which revealed a shock of hair of a
dull flaxen hue doubtless washed free of any pigment by salt spray and
rain. His garments were also of distinctive cut, though they frankly
exposed well-meant though unvailing efforts at matching buttons and
repairing small rents. He bowed to me, his thin face expanding into a
most gentle and somewhat professional smile, and he expressed
commiseration at the sight of Daddy in his bed.
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