“Yes, yes. Sorry I missed it. Who were the dancers, Pablo? You?”
“For one, I; also the Unc’ Aaron.”
“You don’t say so! The old codger!” Mr. Pattison turned and called: “Here, Unc’ Aaron, I want to speak to you.”
Unc’ Aaron retraced his steps and came up, hat in hand. “Yas, suh, Mistah Ned. Has yuh desiahs to speak to me?”
“Yes. What’s this I hear about you dancing? An old fellow like you. Aren’t you ashamed to be setting such an example? I’m surprised at you; it’s scandalous.” Mr. Pattison spoke with assumed severity.
Unc’ Aaron eyed him for a moment to make sure that he was not in fun, but Mr. Pattison kept a grave face difficult though he found it to do so. “Yuh reads de good Book, Mistah Ned?” asked Unc’ Aaron presently.
“Read the Bible? Why, of course.”
“Den yuh knows what de good Book say. Good Book say: mus’ not jedge, Mistah Ned, mus’ not jedge.”
This was too much for Mr. Ned. He threw back his head and laughed heartily. “You’re too much for me, Unc’ Aaron,” he said. “Here’s fifty cents for you, and Pablo, here’s a quarter for you.” So saying the young man went down-hill to repeat the conversation to the young people, while Unc’ Aaron walked on chuckling.
This was the last frolic of the season, for in a few days the little lodge was deserted and the girls scattered, north, south, east and west, not to meet again till autumn.