"But that old feller didn't ask fer no sich things. He looked at the king, squinted his eyes a little, an' says he, 'Yes, Alec, ye kin do me a great favor.'"
"'An' what is it?' says the king, soft an' pleasant like, expectin' to be asked fer somethin' great."
"'Ye kin jist stand from between me an' th' sun,' says the old feller. 'Ye'r hidin' the light, an' I feel chilly.' That's what he says to the king."
"And wasn't the king hoppin' mad?" Zeb asked.
"Mad! Not a bit of it. He grinned, an' went away. I bet ye'r boots he told his wife about it, an' they both had a good laff, the first they'd had, I reckon, fer a long time. Ye see, it did 'em good. That's what they needed to cheer 'em up. An' look here, Zeb, that's what people need to-day. If they'd laff more they'd feel a darned sight better, let me tell ye that. You'd feel better ye'rself, Zeb."
"I feel better, already, Abner," was the reply. "I'm jist holdin' me sides to keep from splittin', ye'r story was so funny."
"H'm, I guess if ye saw an' heard me when I was real funny ye'd be tied up in a knot in no time. If the spirits of me humorous ancestors got busy there'd be somethin' doin' worth while. An' they're really needed. It 'ud do people a world of good if they could be affected jist fer a day by them wonderful spirits."
"What are ye talkin' about, anyway, Abner? What could the spirits of ye'r ancestors do?"
"Do? Why, they could cure all kinds of diseases, an make people well an' strong."
"Fiddlesticks! Ye'r talkin' nonsense, Abner. How could they do sich things?"