"Wait a moment, Mr. Officer," Aunt Martha piped in; "have a drop of refreshment before you go. Tacks, run in and pour Mr. Officer a drink from that bottle on the sideboard!"
Diggs stood there swallowing his palate in delightful anticipation until Tacks handed him a brimming glass from which the brave thief-taker took one eager mouthful, whereupon he emitted a shriek of terror that could be heard for miles.
"Water! water! quick! I'm a'burnin' up!" cried the astonished
Diggs.
Uncle Peter in his eagerness to quench the flames poured half a pitcher full of ice water down the back of Diggs' neck.
"It ain't there, it's down my throat!" yelled the unfortunate Harmony, whereupon Uncle Peter poured the rest of the ice water over the constable's head.
When, finally, the old fellow was revived he faintly declined any more refreshment, and with a sad "good-night," faded away in the twilight.
"Gee!" exclaimed Tacks, as he watched the retreating form, "I'm afraid I upset some tobascum sauce in that glass by mistake."
Presently, Bunch went off to the depot to take a train back to the city, and for some little time we sat in silence on the piazza.
"Grand, isn't it?" Uncle Peter said, breaking the spell. "Couldn't be any nicer, now, could it?" Then he went over and stood near Clara J.
"Little woman," he said; "ever since we first talked of moving out here I noticed how worried John was."