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Chapter I. The Blurring Of Lines

           I’veseen’imrightoff’isonion,andnoerror.Well,lookwhat’edidthismorning."

           "Whatdidhedo?"

           Austinbentovertome.

           "’Ebitthe’ousekeeper,"saidheinahoarsewhisper.

           "Bither?"

           "Yes,sir.Bit’erontheleg.Isaw’erwithmyowneyesstartin’amarathonfromthe’all-door."

           "Goodgracious!"

           "Soyou’dsay,sir,ifyoucouldseesomeofthegoingson.’Edon’tmakefriendswiththeneighbors.There’ssomeofthemthinksthatwhen’ewasupamongthosemonstersyouwroteabout,itwasjust’’Ome,Sweet’Ome’forthemaster,and’ewasneverinfittercompany.That’swhattheysay.ButI’veserved’imtenyears,andI’mfondof’im,and,mindyou,’e’sagreatman,whenall’ssaidan’done,andit’sanhonortoserve’im.But’edoestryonecruelattimes.Nowlookatthat,sir.Thatain’twhatyoumightcallold-fashioned’ospitality,isitnow?Justyoureaditforyourself."

           Thecaronitslowestspeedhadgrounditswayupasteep,curvingascent.Atthecorneranotice-boardpeeredoverawell-clippedhedge.AsAustinsaid,itwasnotdifficulttoread,forthewordswerefewandarresting:—

           WARNING.

           Visitors,Pressmen,andMendicantsarenotencouraged.

           G.E.CHALLENGER.

           "No,it’snotwhatyoumightcall’earty,"saidAustin,shakinghisheadandglancingupatthedeplorableplacard."Itwouldn’tlookwellinaChristmascard.Ibegyourpardon,sir,forIhaven’tspokeasmuchasthisformanyalongyear,butto-daymyfeelingsseemto’avegotthebetterofme

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