Jed sighed. "Yes," he said, "Gabe's as funny as a jumpin' toothache."
The young lady regarded him doubtfully. "I see," she said, after a moment, "you're joking again. I wish you'd tell me when you're going to do it, so Petunia and I would know for sure."
"All right, I'll try not to forget to remember. But how did you guess I was jokin' this time?"
"'Cause you just had to be. A jumping toothache isn't funny. I had one once and it made me almost sick."
"Um-hm. W-e-e-ll, Gabe Bearse makes 'most everybody sick. What set you thinkin' about him?"
"'Cause I just met him on the way home and he acted so funny. First he gave me a stick of candy."
Mr. Winslow leaned back in his chair.
"What?" he cried. "He gave you a stick of candy? GAVE it to you?"
"Yes. He said: 'Here, little girl, don't you like candy?' And when I said I did he gave me a stick, the striped peppermint kind it was. I'd have saved a bite for you, Uncle Jed, only I and the rest ate it all before I remembered. I'm awfully sorry."
"That's all right. Striped candy don't agree with me very well, anyway; I'm liable to swallow the stripes crossways, I guess likely. But tell me, did Gabe look wild or out of his head when he gave it to you?"