"N-n-o, not exactly bad news; but a very bad bother," said Gray, sitting down in the big arm-chair and wiping the perspiration from his heated face.
"What is it, Reuben?" pursued Hannah.
"Where's Ishmael?" inquired Gray, without attempting to answer her question.
"Working in the garden, of course. But why can't you tell me what's the matter?"
"Botheration is the matter, Hannah, my dear. Just go call Ishmael to me."
Hannah left the house to comply with his request, and Reuben sat and wiped his face and pondered over his perplexities. Reuben had lately given to rely very much upon Ishmael's judgment, and to appeal to him in all his difficulties. So he looked up in confidence as the youth entered with Hannah.
"What is it, Uncle Reuben?" inquired the boy cheerfully.
"The biggest botheration as ever was, Ishmael, my lad!" answered Gray.
"Well, take a mug of cool cider to refresh yourself, and then tell me all about it," said Ishmael.
Hannah ran and brought the invigorating drink, and after quaffing it Gray drew a long breath and said: