"Well, Hal!" she exclaimed in her rather shrill but cheery voice, "how's the day gone?"
"Pretty well: but you're tired to death. I suppose Mrs. Kinsey's company came, and there was a grand feast?"
"Grand! I guess it was. Such loads of pies and puddings and kettles of berries and tubs of cream"—
Granny paused, out of breath from not having put in any commas.
"Ice-cream, you mean? Freezers, they call 'em."
"You do know every thing, Hal!" And granny laughed. "I can't get all the new-fangled names and notions in my head. There was Grandmother Kinsey, neat as a new pin, and children and grandchildren, and aunts and cousins. But it was nice, Hal."
The boy smiled, thinking of them all.
"Half of the goodies'll spile, I know. Mrs. Kinsey packed me a great basket full; and, Hal, here's two dollars. I'm clean tuckered out."
"Then you just sit still, and let me 'tend to you. Dot's asleep; and if I haven't worried with her this afternoon! That child ought to grow up a wonder, she's been so much trouble to us all. Joe's gone after the cows, and Florence is busy as a bee. Oh, what a splendid basket full! Why, we shall feast like kings!"