He turned to leave the house by the kitchen door, but Mrs. Hawkins interposed.
"You better go out the front way," said she, and she ran before him and opened the door leading to the front entry, and then the front door. As he passed out, she said, "I wish you success, Mr. Sawyer, and we'll gin you all our trade."
"Thank you!" said Quincy. He walked down the path, opened the front gate, and as he closed it raised his hat to Mrs. Hawkins, who stood in the front doorway, her thin, angular face wreathed in smiles.
"Wall," said she, as she closed the front door and walked back into the kitchen, "what lies some folks tell. Now, that Professor Strout has allus said that Mr. Sawyer was so stuck up that he wouldn't speak to common folks. Wall, I think he's a real gentleman. 'Twon't do for any one to run him down to me after this."
Here she thought of her money, and, spreading out the three bills in her hand, she opened the kitchen door and screamed at the top of her voice, "Jonas! Jonas!! Jonas!!!" There were no signs of Jonas. "Where is that man? He's never 'round when he's wanted."
"What is it, Marthy?" said a voice behind her. Turning, she saw her husband puffing away at his brierwood pipe.
"I thought you went out to the barn," said she, "to help Abner hitch up?"
"Wall, I did," he replied; "but it didn't take two on us long to do that. I eat so much chicken salad that it laid kinder heavy on my stummick, so I went out in the wood-shed to have a smoke. But where did you git all that money?"
"Mr. Sawyer took the front room for two weeks and paid for it ahead, and do you know he said my chicken salad was jist as good as Mrs. Young and Mrs. Parker makes down to Bosting."
"I don't know Mrs. Young nor Mrs. Parker," said Jonas, "but on makin' chicken salad I'll match Mrs. Hawkins agin 'em any day;" and he went out in the wood-shed to finish his smoke.