“I’ve always thought nobody understood me quite as well as I understood myself,” resumed Mr. Tillytuck. “It isn’t likely I’ll ever marry now. But while there’s life there’s hope.” This time it was at Judy he winked and Judy felt that she was not half as “mad” as she should be. She gave her soup a final stir and stood up briskly.

“Wud ye be jining us in a sup av soup, Mister Tillytuck?”

“Ah, some small refreshment will not be amiss,” responded Mr. Tillytuck in a gratified tone. “I am not above the pleasures of the palate in moderation. And ever since I entered this dwelling I’ve been saying to myself whenever you stirred that pot, ‘Of all the smells that I ever did smell I never smelled a smell that smelled half as good as that smell smells.’”

Pat and Cuddles proceeded to set the table. Mr. Tillytuck watched them with approbation.

“A pair of high-steppers,” he remarked presently in a hoarse aside to Judy. “Some class to them. The little one has the wrist of an aristycrat.”

“Oh, oh, and so ye’ve noticed that now?” said Judy, highly gratified.

“Naturally. I’m an expert in regard to weemen. ‘There’s elegance for you,’ I said to myself the moment I opened the door. Some difference from the girls at the fox farm. Just between friends, Miss Plum, they looked like dried apples on a string. One of them was as thin as a weasel and living on lettuce to get thinner. But these two now…Cupid will be busy I reckon. No doubt you’ve a terrible time with the boys hanging round, Miss Plum?”

“Oh, oh, we’re not altogether overlooked,” said Judy complacently. “And now, Mister Tillytuck, will ye be sitting in?”

Mr. Tillytuck slid into a chair.

“I wonder if you’d mind leaving out the ‘mister,’” he said. “I’m not used to it and it makes me feel like a pilgrim and sojourner. Josiah, now…if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh, oh, but I wud,” said Judy decidedly. “Sure and Josiah has always been a name I cudn’t bear iver since old Josiah Miller down at South Glen murdered his wife.”

“I was well acquainted with Josiah Miller,” remarked Mr. Tillytuck, taking up his spoon. “First he choked his wife, then he hanged her, then he dropped her in the river with a stone tied to her. Taking no chances. Ah, I knew him well. In fact, I may say he was a particular friend of mine at one time. But after that happened of course I had to drop him.”

“Did they hang him?” demanded Cuddles with ghoulish interest.

“No. They couldn’t prove it although everybody knew he did it. They kind of sympathized with him. There’s an odd woman that has to be murdered. He died a natural death but his ghost walked. I met it once on a time.”