Chapter 16 JOB GOES TO A FUNERAL.

"Do you know what a first-rate substitute for roast oysters these are?" asked Alan, twirling the great metal spider with purplish back and spiral wire legs that hung from the gas fixture.

"No, nor you either, Alan," said Jessie. "They do, now honestly. If you heat them up real hot, they smell just like roast oysters. I knew a family once, that a