"That," says I, "was the immovable object. Drive on, for mercy sakes!"
Next day Lot came to see me at the Poquit House. He was dreadful upset. Seems he hadn't stayed his time out at camp-meetin'. One of the mediums or spooks or somethin' over there told him there was a destructive influence hoverin' over his house and he'd hurried back to find out about it.
"Humph!" says I. "I should have said it had quit hoverin' and had lit. How's Cousin Lemuel?"
Seems Cousin Lemuel was at the hotel over to Bayport. He'd telephoned for his trunks.
"And he told me," says Lot, wonderin' like, "to tell Aunt Lucindy that he intended havin' tea and toast three times a day now, as a matter of principle. That's strange, isn't it?"
"Not to me 'tain't," says I. "And how's Aunt Lucindy?"
"Aunt Lucindy's gone back to Denboro," he says. "And she left word for Cousin Lemuel that she should send him a 'thought'—whatever that is—every day by mail from now on. And you'd ought to have seen her face when she said it! But, Cap'n Zeb, when are you comin' back to board with me?"
I shook my head. "Lot," says I, "I like you fust-rate, but your relations are too irresistibly immovable. I'm goin' to keep clear of 'em for the rest of my life—as a matter of principle," I says, chucklin'.