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When the Man came back to where his Wife stood with her Hand on her Heart, he reported that the He-Gossip would be found on top of the Grape-Arbor. MORAL: Any one hoping to do Something in the Rescue Line had better go further than Next Door. An Author was sitting at his Desk trying to pull himself together and grind out Any Old Thing that could be converted into Breakfast Food.
The He-Gossip went Home feeling that he was entitled to a Pedestal right in between Savonarola and Martin Luther. When the Man came Home his Wife told him. He murmured something about the Last Straw and moved swiftly out of doors. Pulling up the Rover Stake from the Croquet Grounds as he ran, he cleared the Dividing Fence without touching his Hands and began to Clean House.
Once upon a time there was a He-Gossip named Cyrenius Bizzy. Mr. Bizzy was Middle-Aged and had a Set of dark Chinchillas. He carried a Gold-Headed Cane on Sunday. His Job on this Earth was to put on a pair of Pneumatic Sneakers every Morning and go out and Investigate Other People's Affairs. He called himself a Reformer, and he did all his Sleuthing in the line of Duty.
Especially were the young women on board grateful to the he-gossip, when he accosted them as a perfect stranger to tell them the name of another and even more perfect stranger. "Evidently an Austrian army officer," he always proclaimed, and that seemed to settle it.
In about a Second there was a Sound as if somebody had stubbed his Toe and dropped a Crockery Store. Then Cyrenius was seen to Break the Record for the Running Long Jump, off the Front Stoop into an Oleander Tub, while wearing a Screen Door. After him came the Worldly Husband. For several Minutes the Copse where once the Garden smiled was full of He-Gossip and Cries for Help.
"Acts to me like he was holding back something," he thought as he rode briskly on through the wide, rolling solitudes. "Now, I wonder what sort of a guy is this Tex Lynch, and what's going on at the Shoe-Bar that an old he-gossip like Pop Daggett is afraid to talk about?"
"An' if it was freight, he'd have sent one of us," commented Bud, as they saddled up preparatory to resuming operations on the fences. "Still an' all, I reckon he wants to see Pop himself and get a line on what that old he-gossip knows. He'll have his ear full, all right," he finished in a tone of vindictive satisfaction.
The customary he-gossip and perennial snooper who is always making the voyage no matter what ship one takes or the direction one goes, nosed out the purser and discovered that the young man was R. Schmidt of Vienna. He was busy thereafter mixing with the throng, volunteering information that had not been solicited but which appeared to be welcome.
It kept the He-Gossip on the Go most of the time to let the Neighborhood know all the Details of these Debauches. It did very little Good. The Family did not want to be Reformed. He even wrote Anonymous Letters telling them how Depraved they were.
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