Chapter V

"What's up? what's up?" cried Yates drowsily next morning, as a prolonged hammering at his door awakened him.

"Well, you're not, anyhow." He recognized the voice of young Hiram. "I say, breakfast's ready. The professor has been up an hour."

"All right; I'll be down shortly," said Yates, yawning, adding to himself: "Hang the professor!" The sun was streaming in through the east window, but Yates never before remembered seeing it such a short distance above the horizon in the morning. He pulled his watch from the pocket of his vest, hanging on the bedpost. It was not yet seven o'clock. He placed it to his ear, thinking it had stopped, but found himself mistaken.

"What an unearthly hour," he said, unable to check the yawns. Yates' years on a morning newspaper had made seven o'clock something like midnight to him. He had been unable to sleep until after two o'clock, his usual time of turning in, and now this rude wakening seemed thoughtless cruelty. However, he dressed, and yawned himself downstairs.

They were all seated at breakfast when Yates entered the apartment, which was at once dining room and parlor.

"Waiting for you," said young Hiram humorously, that being one of a set of jokes which suited various occasions. Yates took his place near Miss Kitty, who looked as fresh and radiant as a spirit of the morning.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting long." he said.

"No fear," cried Mrs. Bartlett. "If breakfast's a minute later than seven o'clock, we soon hear of it from the men-folks. They get precious hungry by that time."

"By that time?" echoed Yates. "Then do they get up before seven?"

"Laws! what a farmer you would make, Mr. Yates!" exclaimed Mrs. Bartlett, laughing.

"Why, everything's done about the house and barn; horses fed, cows milked--everything. There never was a better motto made than the one you learned when you were a boy, and like as not have forgotten all about:

"'Early to bed and early to rise Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.'

I'm sorry you don't believe in it, Mr. Yates."

"Oh, that's all right," said Yates with some loftiness; "but I'd like to see a man get out a morning paper on such a basis. I'm healthy enough, quite as wealthy as the professor here, and everyone will admit that I'm wiser than he is; yet I never go to bed until after two o'clock, and rarely wake before noon."

Kitty laughed at this, and young Hiram looked admiringly at the New Yorker, wishing he was as clever.

"For the land's sake!" cried Mrs. Bartlett, with true feminine profanity, "What do you do up so late as that?"

"Writing, writing," said Yates airily; "articles that make dynasties