"No sir," replied the Boston bachelor emphatically; "I would yield no palm under any circumstances. I even prefer a Boston east wind to the mildest western zephyr."
"Oh, you are prejudiced!" said Bessie, laughing.
"Of course I am, Miss Darrell. It is a characteristic of Massachusetts
Bay. We do not deny it,—on the contrary we are rather proud of it."
Thus, in many conversations, the dog-days passed along.
"It seems to me we do nothing but talk," said Bessie, after a long evening on the piazza with several visitors.
"The dog-days were intended for conversation," said Hugh. "Our hands and our brains are busily employed all the rest of the year, but when the thermometer gets up into the nineties, the tongue talks its share and gives the other members a rest."
"I hope you don't mean to insinuate that our brains are not employed in our conversation," said Bessie.
"Not much brain in dog-day conversation," said Hugh, laughing. "I know that I have been talking nonsense this evening, and from what I have overheard, I suspect the others have not done much better."
"Oh, you slanderer!" cried Bessie.
"But nonsense is appropriate to the season, Queen Bess. We don't eat much solid food now; then how can we hear much solid talk! Aunt Faith's 'trifle' is the chief of our diet, and the result is, naturally, trifling conversation."