Mr. Homer started from his seat with a wild look, but Will Jaquith laid a quiet hand on his shoulder.
"Sit still, sir!" he said. "I'll take charge of this one, and Tommy will be back soon. Cheer up, Mr. Homer!"
He passed out. Mr. Homer, listening feverishly, heard a few words spoken in a cheerful, decided voice; then the door closed. Mr. Homer drew a long breath, but started again nervously as Direxia's brown head popped in at the door.
"Mis' Weight brung some stuff," she said, briefly. "Looks like skim-milk blue-monge bet up with tapioky. Want it?"
"No!" cried Mr. Homer, with something as near a snarl as his gentle voice could compass.
"Well, you needn't take my head off!" said Direxia. "I didn't make it. I'll give it to the parrot; he's rugged."
She vanished, and Mr. Homer's head dropped in his hands again.
"Like locusts!" he murmured. "Like locusts! Oh, Cousin Marcia, how could you?"