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"Them cigareets whut thishere Noble Dills smoke whiles he settin' out on the front po'che callin' on you' Aunt Julia. You' grampaw mighty funny man about smellin'! You know's well's I do he don't even like the smell o' violet. Well, ma'am, if he can't stan' violet, how in the name o' misery he goin' stan' the smell nem cigareets thishere Dills smoke? I can't hardly stan' 'em myse'f.
He then says, "Did the dog bite you?" You answer, "Yes, sir." Grampaw then says, "He bites everybody," and goes back to sleep. Reassured, you light a cigaret. A little boy and girl then come to the door, and, after examining you carefully for several minutes, they burst into giggling laughter and run away. You feel to see if you have forgotten to put on a necktie.
"You' grampaw!" "What about grandpa?" said Herbert. "What'd he do last night?" "'Do'? Oh, me!" Then Mrs. Silver uttered sounds like the lowing of kine, whereby she meant to indicate her inability to describe Mr. Atwater's performance. "Well, ma'am," she said, in the low and husky voice of simulated exhaustion, "all I got to say: you' grampaw beat hisse'f! He beat hisse'f!" "How d'you mean?
He b'en started ev' since the very firs' time he ev' lay eyes on him prancin' up the front walk to call on Miss Julia. You' grampaw don' like none nem callers, but he everlas'n'ly did up an' take a true spite on thishere li'l Dills!" "I mean," said Herbert, "what started him last night?" "Them cigareets," said Kitty Silver.
"'Deed it were!" said Mrs. Silver. "An' dess whut he claim hisse'f he mean it fer! But you tell me, please, how you hear whut you' grampaw say? He mighty noisy, but you nev' could a-hear him plumb to whur you live." "I wasn't home," said Florence. "I was over here." "Then you mus' 'a' made you'se'f mighty skimpish, 'cause I ain't seen you!" "Nobody saw me.
Firs' come Airydale dog you' grampaw tuck an' give away to the milkman; 'n'en come two mo' pups; I don't know whut they is, 'cause they bofe had dess sense enough to run away after you' grampaw try learn 'em how much he ain't like no pups; an' nex' come them two canaries hangin' in the dinin'-room now, an' nex' di'n' I holler so's they could a-hear me all way down town?
When he light one on the front po'che, she sif' all through the house, an' come slidin' right the whole way out to my kitchen, an' bim! she take me in the nose! You' grampaw awready tole Miss Julia time an' time again if that li'l Dills light dess one mo' on his front po'che he goin' to walk out there an' do some harm!
"That's what I mean," Florence explained. "I expect he's just brute enough to drive him off." "Yes'm," said Mrs. Silver. "He git madder ev'y time somebody sen' her new pet. You' grampaw mighty nervous man, an' everlas'n'ly do hate animals." "He hasn't seen Gammire, has he?" "Don't look like it, do it?" said Kitty Silver. "Dog here yit."
If you are tactful, you should soon win the old lady's favor completely, so that before long she will tell you all about her rheumatism and what grampaw can and can't eat. Finally Miss Doe arrives. Her first words are, "Have you been waiting long? Hilda didn't tell me you were here," to which you reply, "No I just arrived." She then says, "Shall we go in the drawing-room?"
I wasn't in the house," said Florence, "I was out in front." "Whurbouts 'out in front'?" "Well, I was sitting on the ground, up against the latticework of the front porch." "Whut fur?" "Well, it was dark," said Florence. "I just kind of wanted to see what might be going on." "An' you hear all whut you' grampaw take on about an' ev'ything?" "I should say so!
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