"We'll talk about it as we drive!" said Kitty brightly. "I think we must start now, Mrs. Grieven. The 'ribbon' is delicious, Mr. Cheeseman; thank you so much! Let me know when you expect Mr. Parks again, won't you?"
Uncle Ivory Cheeseman watched her as she drove off.
"Now she'll sup yellow flannel all the way to North Cyrus!" he commented; "and take it as if 'twas butter scotch. Them kind of folks, you sympathize with them, and they're all over you in a minute, like a wet dog on a cold day. It's one thing to be friendly, but,—well, the Bible says to suffer fools gladly, but it don't say to encourage 'em, and so I tell Calvin!"
He turned, and gave his mind to the molasses peppermints.
CHAPTER XX
the pan-american
If little has been said hitherto of Miss Ruby Caddie, it is not because she was not an Institution of Cyrus; far from it! She was even more than that, though that would be enough for most people; she was a National Institution; she was the Pan-American! Miss Ruby spent her days in a box measuring eight feet by ten, glazed on two sides; one window giving on the street, the other on a small and dingy space which she called the Outer Office. The other two sides were profusely adorned with illuminated texts, of cheerful and admonitory nature. Miss Ruby's visitors were advised that this was Her Busy Day; that it was proper to Smile While You Wait: that
"When Time is withdrawn,
Will Eternity dawn!"
etc., etc. The latter sentiment was also inscribed in letters of gold (decalcomania!) on a manuscript book which lay on Miss Ruby's desk, and which was further labeled "Timely Texts for Troublous Telegrams." This volume (a birthday present from Miss Pearl, who had spent a happy year in its compilation) was a constant help to Miss Ruby in discharging the responsibilities of her position, of which she was acutely conscious. The electric telegraph was to her sensitive nature no mere affair of keys, wires and switches: no, indeed! "It is a Mighty Force," the little lady was wont to say, shaking her flaxen ringlets impressively, "which through my agency raises the heart to the summit of joy or plunges it in the gulf of despair."