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"The only fashionable people here was the Squire's sarvants; and they did look genteel, and no mistake. Elegant men, and most splendid lookin' women they was too. I thought it was some noble, or aid's, or big bug's family; but Mrs. Hodgins says they are the people of the Squire's about here, the butlers and ladies' maids; and superfine uppercrust lookin' folks they be too.
The other boys began to catch on and grin. The Aid's face flushed, but Shorty continued his loud objurgations at the mule: "You misbegotten pill o' perdition; you pompous, puddin'-headed staff officer; you miserable errand-boy for the General, puttin' on more airs than the General; you half-hatched officer, runnin' around yit with the shell on your head, and pretendin' to be cock-o'-the-walk, won't you git up?"
He wriggled in between, snatched the glasses, and made off with them. The Brigade Provost-Marshal rode up and sternly demanded what the disturbance was about. Shorty began a hot harrangue against young staff officers generally, and this particular offender, but Si got his arm across his mouth and muffled his speech. The Provost listened to the Aid's bitter indictment against both Si and Shorty.
"Very likely though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies' Aid's acquaintance," rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the doorway. "Nancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to stand erect in a proper manner. I don't know yet what you look like."
"The only fashionable people here was the Squire's sarvants; and they did look genteel, and no mistake. Elegant men, and most splendid lookin' women they was too. I thought it was some noble, or aid's, or big bug's family; but Mrs. Hodgins says they are the people of the Squire's about here, the butlers and ladies' maids; and superfine uppercrust lookin' folks they be too.
Tell him the President of the Ladies' Aid's here, in a most pious frame of mind, and she'd like to hear him play the bangjo and sing the other Joe 'Old Black Joe, or whatever you call him, and maybe he'll dance the 'Highland Fling, too!" "Maggie!" implored her mother. "He'll hear you! There's the knocker!"
Strain, sent for at eight o'clock by the department commander to listen to the aid's wrathful account of the interview with Loring, fumed and fidgetted and strove to ask some questions to make matters clear, but Petty was already on the defensive and did not mean to be questioned, and the General kept interposing. "Let him tell his tale his own way, Colonel.
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