"Now, now!" says she, just like that, givin' me a real giddy tap with her fan. "You must be real serious."

"I'm in condition to be all of that," says I. "Are you plannin' to try the----"

"I am going to help you to banish the imaginary pains, Mr. McCabe," says she. "Now first you must repeat after me the _summum bonum_."

"Eh?" says I.

"It's very simple," says she, floppin' down on the cushions alongside and reachin' out for one of my hands. "It begins this way, 'I am a child of light and goodness.' Now say that."

Say, how would you duck a proposition of that kind? There was Violet, with her big eyes rolled at me real pleadin', and her mouth puckered up real cunning, and the soft, clingin' grip on my right paw. Well, I says it over.

"That's it!" she purrs. "Now, 'Evil and fear and pain are the creatures of darkness.' Go on!"

"Sure thing!" says I. "'Evil and fear and----Ouch!"

Ever feel one of them last gasps that a nerve gives when it goes out of business? I thought the top of my head was comin' off. But it didn't, and a couple of seconds later I knew the jumpin' was all over; so I straightens my face out, and we proceeds with the catechism.

It was a bird, too. I didn't mind doin' it at all with Miss Lee there to help; for, in spite of her loppy ways, she's more or less of a candy girl. There was a good deal to it, and it all means the same as what Toodle was tryin' to hand out; but now that the ache has quit I'm ready for any kind of foolishness.

Violet had got to the point where she has snuggled up nice and close, with one hand still grippin' mine and the other smoothin' out my jaw while she told me again how pain was only a pipe dream,--when I glances over her shoulder and sees Sadie floatin' in hangin' to Dr. Toodle's arm.

And does Sadie miss the tableau in our corner? Not to any extent! Her eyebrows go up, and her mouth comes open. That's the first indication.

Next her lips shut tight, and her eyes narrow down, and before you could count three she's let go of Toodle as if he was a hot potato, and she's makin' a bee line for the cozy corner.

"Why!" says Miss Lee, lookin' up and forecastin' the comin' conditions in a flash. "Is dinner over? Oh, and there's Dr. Toodle!" and off she trips, leavin' the McCabe fam'ly to hold a reunion.

"Well, I never!" says Sadie, givin' me the gimlet gaze. And say, she puts plenty of expression into them three words.

"Me either," says I. "Not very often, anyway. But a chance is a chance."

"I hope I didn't intrude?" says she, her eyes snappin'.

"There's no tellin'," says I.

"It was a very touching scene!" says she. "Very!"

"Wa'n't it?" says I. "Nice girl, Violet."

"Violet! Humph!" says she. "There's no accounting for tastes!"

"Just what I was thinkin' when I see you with the timelock clutch on that freak doctor's south wing," says I.

"Dr. Toodle," says she, "was explaining to me his wonderful self healing theories."

"And dear Violet," says I, "was puttin' me through a course of sprouts in the automatic toothache cure."

"Oh, indeed!" says Sadie. "Was patting your cheek part of it?"

"I hope so," says I.

"Huh!" says she. "I suppose it worked?"

"Like a charm," says I. "All that bothers me now is how I can dig up another pain."

"You might have your dear Violet see what can be done for that soft spot in your head!" she snaps. "Only next time take her off out of sight, please."

"Oh, we'll attend to that, all right," says I. "This havin' a green eyed wife buttin' in just at the interestin' point is something fierce!" And that's where I spread it on too thick.

"Don't be a chump, Shorty!" says Sadie, lettin' loose a sudden giggle and mussin' my hair up with both hands. It's a way she has of gettin' out of a corner, and she's skipped off before I'm sure whether she's still got a grouch, or is only lettin' on.

By that time my appetite has come back; so I holds up the butler and has him lay out a solitaire feed. And when I goes back to the crowd again I finds Toodle has the center of the stage, with the spotlight full on him.

All the women are gathered round, listening to his guff like it was sound sense. Seems he's organized a new deal on the thought cure stunt, and he's workin' it for all it's worth. The men, though, don't appear so excited over what he's sayin'.

"Confounded rubbish, I call it!" says Mr. Purdy-Pell.

"You ought to hear it from Violet," says I. "She's the star explainer of that combination."

But Violet seems to have faded into the background. We don't see anything more of her that evenin', nor she wa'n't in evidence next mornin'. Doc.

Toodle was, though. He begins by tellin' how he never takes anything but hot water and milk on risin'; but that in the middle of the forenoon he makes it a point to put away about three fresh laid eggs, raw, in a glass of sherry.

"How interesting!" says Mrs. Purdy-Pell. "Then we must drive over to Fernbrook Farm, right after breakfast, and get some of their lovely White Leghorn eggs."

That was the sort of excursion I was rung into; so the bunch of us piles into the wagonette and starts for a fresh supply of hen fruit. When we gets to the farm the superintendent invites us to take a tour through the incubator houses, and of course they all wants to see the dear little chickies and so on. All but me. I stays and chins with the coachman while he walks the horses around the driveway.

In about half an hour they comes troopin' back, Toodle in the lead, luggin' a paper bag full of warm eggs. He don't wait for the others, but pikes for the wagonette and climbs in one of the side seats facin' me. We was just turnin' to back up to the block for the ladies, when a yellow kyoodle dashes around the corner after a cat. Them skittish horses was just waitin' for some such excuse as that, and before Mr. Driver can put the curb bit on 'em hard enough they've done a quick pivot, cramped the wheels, and turned us over on the soggy grass as neat as anything you ever see.

Me bein' on the low side, I strikes the ground first; but before I can squirm out, down comes Toodle on top, landin' his one hundred and ninety pounds so sudden that it knocks the wind clear out of me. He's turned over on the way down, so I've got his shoulder borin' into my chest and the heavy part of him on my leg.

Course, the women squeals, and the horses cut up some; but the driver has landed on his feet and has them by the head in no time at all, so we wa'n't dragged around any. Noticin' that, I lays still and waits for Toodle to pry himself loose. But the Doc. don't seem in any hurry to move, and the next thing I know I hear him groanin' and mumblin' under his breath. Between groans he was tryin' to say over that rigmarole of his.

"I am a child of light--Oh, dear me!--of light and goodness!" he was pantin' out. "Evil and fear and--Oh, my poor back!--and pain are creatures of--Oh my, oh my!--of darkness! Nothing can harm me!"

"Say, something is goin' to harm you mighty sudden," says I, "if you don't let me up out of this."

"Oh, my life blood!" he groans. "I can feel my life blood! Oh, oh! I am a child of----"

"Ah, slush!" says I. "Get up and shake yourself. Think I'm a bloomin'

prayer rug that you can squat on all day? Roll over!" and I manages to hand him a short arm punch in the ribs that stirs him up enough so I can slide out from under. Soon's I get on my feet and can hop around once or twice I finds there's no bones stickin' through, and then I turns to have a look at him.

And say, I wouldn't have missed that exhibition for twice the shakin' up I got! There he is, stretched out on the wet turf, his eyelids flutterin', his breath comin' fast, and his two hands huggin' tight what's left of that bu'sted paper bag, right up against the front of his preacher's vest. And can you guess what's happened to them eggs?

"Oh, my life blood!" he keeps on moanin'. "I can feel it oozing through----"

"Ah, you're switched, Toodle!" says I. "Your brain kodak is out of register, that's all. It ain't life blood you're losin'; it's only your new laid omelet that's leakin' over your vest front."

About then I gets a squint at Sadie and Mrs. Purdy-Pell, and they're almost chokin' to death in a funny fit.

Well, say, that was the finish of Toodleism with the Rockywold bunch. The Doc. didn't have a scratch nor a bruise on him, and after he'd been helped up and scraped off, he was almost as good as new. But his conversation works is clogged for good, and he has his chin down on his collar. They sends him and Violet down to catch the next train, and Sadie and Mrs. Purdy-Pell spends the rest of the day givin' imitations of how Toodle hugged up the eggs and grunted that he was a child of light.