The rest of his clothing was napless and shiny, too, but it had the air of being entirely satisfied with itself and blandly sorry for other people's clothes.

It was growing rather dark in the house, and the evening air was chilly, too.

Sellers said: "Lay off your overcoat, Washington, and draw up to the stove and make yourself at home--just consider yourself under your own shingles my boy -- I'll have a fire going, in a jiffy.

Light the lamp, Polly, dear, and let's have things cheerful just as glad to see you, Washington, as if you'd been lost a century and we'd found you again!" By this time the Colonel was conveying a lighted match into a poor little stove.

Then he propped the stove door to its place by leaning the poker against it, for the hinges had retired from business.