So every mother's son and daughter that gits a squint at that paper to-night got to pony up five cups of sugar.

Savve?
Five cups,--big cups, white, or brown, or cube,--an' I'll take their IOU's, an' send a boy round to their shacks the day followin' to collect." Frona's face went blank at the telling, then the laughter came back into it.

"Won't it be jolly?
I'll do it if it raises a scandal.
To-night, Dave?
Sure to-night ?" "Sure.

An' you git a complimentary, you know, fer the loan of yer parlor." "But papa must pay his five cups.

You must insist upon it, Dave." Dave's eyes twinkled appreciatively.