"Yass, miss. Whar dat Mitty?"
"Now you know Mitty won't get back till nine o'clock. She never does after a festival or a picnic or a parlor social, as she calls it. She is too sleepy after staying up half the night."
"Po' miserble sinnah," grumbled Unc' Landy. "Bad man git her suah ef her foots keep on a-twitchen' when de banjo play."
"Oh, Mitty is all right," returned Nan smiling. "You are too hard on her, Unc' Landy."
"'Tain' no use talkin' to dese yer light-haided young uns," he replied. "Yuh jest bleedged to beat erligion inter 'em. Dey foots is on de broad road to destruction, and yuh bleedged to drive 'em back wid er stick, jest lak a sheep er a heifer er a pig when dey gits outer de parf. How much ham yuh reckon yuh wants, honey?"
"Oh, a couple of slices. I suppose you can tell how long to cook it. I had an awful time with my supper last night, and it wasn't very good after all. I forgot to put salt in the biscuits and the bacon was chunky."
"Whafo' yuh mek any fuss jest fo' yuh-alls?" said Unc' Landy. "Why yuh don' jest picnic till yo' Aunt Sarah come? 'Tain' no diffunce ef yuh chilluns ain' got a comp'ny brekfus."
"But it is a difference when we have two strangers."
"Strangers? Who dey?" Unc' Landy looked greatly surprised.
"The Gordon boys, Randolph and Ashby. They were to have come to-day, you know, but they got here yesterday instead."