“Why,” says Mr. Tidd, as mild as could be, “this house.”
Silas looked up at the roof and craned his neck to peer around to the side. “This house,” says he, all flabbergasted. “Say, if you think this house is on fire, why hain’t you doin’ somethin’ about it?”
“Well,” said Mr. Tidd, “what would you advise doin’?”
“Yellin’,” says Silas.
“I hain’t much on yellin’,” says Mr. Tidd.
“If my house was on fire I’d calc’late to make some racket,” says Silas.
“But I don’t know this house is on fire. I jest guessed it was.”
“Hain’t you goin’ to find out?”
“Why,” says Mr. Tidd, “if it’s on fire we’ll find out quick enough, won’t we?”
Maybe you think Mr. Tidd was joking with Silas Doolittle Bugg, but he wasn’t. That was his way. He’d have acted just that way if the house really was on fire, and probably he’d have stopped the fire company on the lawn to read to them out of the Decline and Fall if the roof was blazing.