They have a card with your name
written on it. I'm no lady's man, anyhow."
"Do they look like queens?" Clara J. asked, uneasily.
"Well, they aren't exactly Cleopatras, but not bad, not bad!" he
gurgled.
"Is one older than the other?" Clara J. cross-questioned.
"Might be mother and daughter," Uncle Peter fancied.
"It's surely Bunch's bunch," I groaned inwardly, wondering how I'd
look galloping across the country with a kitchen chair trailing
along behind.
"Uncle Peter, it must be John Henry's Aunt Eliza and cousin Julia.
He expects them, don't you, John?" Clara J. explained. "We shall
be ready to welcome them in just a little while;" here she glanced
cautiously at the chair. "In the meantime you show them into the
spare room and say that John will see them very soon."
The old gentleman eyed me suspiciously and retired without a word.
I'm afraid Uncle Peter found it hard to take.
With the kind assistance of the carving knife Clara J. removed all
of me from the chair, with the exception of a few feet of trousers,
and I made a quick change of costume.
A few minutes later I joined her in the parlor, where the scene was
set for my finish. I picked out a quiet spot near the piano to die.
Uncle Peter was enjoying every minute of it.
He hurried off to escort the visitors to the parlor and a moment
later Aunt Martha bustled in.
"Are they here?" she asked breathlessly.
"How did you know they were coming?" inquired Clara J.
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