mamma says I don't need it. I'm glad he's gone to eat those philopenas. Aren't you?"
"I don't care a rap where he goes," answered Uncle Joe testily.
Josephine opened her eyes to their widest. This old man in the soiled green dressing-gown, unshaven, frowning and wincing in a horrible manner, was like another person to the handsome gentleman with whom she had dined overnight. He was not half so agreeable, and—Well, mamma often said that nobody in this world had a right to be "cross" and make themselves unpleasant to other people. She was sorry for poor Uncle Joe, and remembered that he had not had the advantage of mamma's society and wisdom.
"Uncle Joe, you look just like one of them picture-men that was shut up in a tree trunk. You know. You showed them to me last night. I wish you wouldn't make up such a face," she observed.
Mr. Smith's mouth flew open in sheer amazement, while Peter tossed his hands aloft and rolled his eyes till the whites alone were visible.
