“You’re not going back on our motor boat, are you, when you say you’re going to take up with a sail boat? Jerry I’m ashamed of you!”
“Go back on the dear Dartaway? I guess not much,” Jerry answered. “But we can’t take her down with us, very well. The cottage is too small.”
“I don’t know about that,” Bob said, in rather muffled tones, for he held one end of a string in his mouth and was wrapping the other about the rag on his thumb. “I wish we were going to the shore. The folks don’t know yet what they will do. There, that feels better. When I turn carpenter again you’ll know it.”
“What were you making?”
“Oh, the cook wanted something to keep the stove blacking in, and I said I’d make it. Glad it’s finished though. Maybe she’ll give me something to eat before dinner’s ready.”
“You don’t mean to say you’re going to eat again, and breakfast not over more than two hours?”
“There you go, poking fun at my appetite as usual,” Bob complained.
“Well, it’s hard to forget it, since you always seem to have it with you,” Jerry commented, referring to Bob’s one failing, if it could be so called.
The Baker family’s cook entered the dining room at this point and Bob mentioned that the box she had asked for was finished. Then, while the woman was expressing her thanks, Bob added: