A pool of water collected around his boots, his brows bent moodily under his cap.
"Why don't you set down, Cephas, an' take off your boots ?" Sarah ventured at length, timidly.
"Folks are fools," grunted Cephas.
"I dunno what you mean, Cephas." Cephas got the boot-jack out of the corner, sat down, and began jerking off the wet boots with sympathetic screws of his face.
Sarah stood with a wooden spoon uplifted, eying him anxiously.
Charlotte went into the pantry.
"There 'ain't anythin' happened, has there, Cephas ?" said Sarah, presently.
Cephas pulled off the second boot, and sat holding his blue yarn stocking-feet well up from the wet floor.

"There ain't no need of havin' the rheumatiz, accordin' to my way of thinkin'," said he.
"Who's got the rheumatiz, Cephas ?" "If folks lived right they wouldn't have it." "You 'ain't got it, have you, Cephas ?" "I 'ain't never had a tech of it in my life except once, an' then 'twas due to my not drinkin' enough." "Not drinkin' enough ?" "Yes, I didn't drink enough water.

Folks with rheumatiz had ought to drink all the water they can swaller.

They had ought to drink more'n they eat." "I dunno what you mean, Cephas." "It stands to reason.

I've worked it all out in my mind.