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"If you do, you tell Pete he'll have to work lively," said Henry, with a grin. "I don't know what it is you want us to do, but I reckon I can keep my end up with Pete, from hoein' 'taters to cuttin' cord-wood." "You can keep your end up with him, can you?" chuckled Hiram. "Well! I bet you can't in this game I'm going to put you two fellows up against." "What!
"Would that have done any good?" demanded Mrs. Day, with some scorn. "Ye know Marty's got too big to take orders from his marm. He don't do nothin' but hang about Josiah Pringle's harness shop all day." "I told him to hoe them 'taters," said Mr. Day, thoughtfully. "Well, he don't seem ter take orders from his dad, neither. Don't know what that boy's comin' to," and a whine crept into Mrs.
I means that sort o' contentment that makes a man feel happy though he hasn't got champagne an' taters, pigeon-pie, lobscouse, plum-duff, mustard an' jam at every blow-out; that sort o' contentment that takes things as they come, an' enjoys 'em without grumpin' an' growlin' 'cause he hasn't got somethin' else."
"Why, you're all out o' breath!" he said, in slow alarms. "O Caleb!" she cried, looking at him with imploring eyes. "I'll feed the pigs to-night." Caleb regarded her in dull wonderment. Then he set down the pail he had taken. "Ain't there any taters to bile?" he asked, solving the difficulty in his own way; "or 'ain't you skimmed the milk? I'd jest as soon wait."
"He insulted you and he insulted my mother," said Walter, with the same deadly calm. "Tonight after school, Dan." "I've got to go right home from school to pick taters after the harrows, dad says," answered Dan sulkily. "But to-morrow night'll do." "All right here to-morrow night," agreed Walter. "And I'll smash your sissy-face for you," promised Dan.
"Dear, dear! the light will be coming in no time, and we can quench the glim then," said Biddy. "I've got to be careful about candles. We're precious short of everything at Cronane just now. We're as poor as church mice; it's horrid to be so desperately poor as that. But, hurrah for the cold taters and bacon! We'll have a right good meal.
He was here peelin' 'taters for supper, cookie says, jest b'fore we landed. Now he's sloped." "He saw you comin', it's likely," rejoined Preston. "He suspected what you was after." "Well, I'm goin' to leave Daggett. And, Lem!" "Yes, sir?" said that slouching person. "You got to get him. Now mind that.
Harold beaming happily upon all, while to and from Cynthia's realm ran the little darkies full of enthusiasm for "dem midshipmen mens who suah could eat fried chicken, corn fritters, glazed sweet 'taters, and waffles nuff fer ter bust most mens." Certainly, Aunt Cynthia knew her business and if ever a picnic feast was appreciated, that one was. But the climax came with the dessert.
"Who says 'taters don't catch anything?" asked the man of that bait proudly. "Twenty pounds or I'll eat my shirt." Cautiously, very cautiously, lest the fish make a sudden frightened dash for liberty, John drew in line to raise the captive from the water. "Y'all wait a minute," said the southerner. "Land him in my minny net. That's safer."
"There, I can't say what I was going to say to you, only that their names are Soup and Taters. This is the one you brought aboard Soup. And this is my one Taters. Soup Taters," he said again, and he touched the two men on the shoulders as he spoke, both smiling faintly as they heard his words, and gazing from one to the other as if striving hard to catch the meaning.
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