"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Bixbee in surprise. "Where you goin'?"
"Woodshed," said David.
"Woodshed!" she exclaimed, making as if to rise and follow.
"You set still," said David. "Somethin' I fergot."
"What on earth!" she exclaimed, with an air of annoyance and bewilderment. "What do you want in the woodshed? Can't you set down an' let Sairy git it for ye?"
"No," he asserted with a grin. "Sairy might sqush it. It must be putty meller by this time," And out he went.
"Manners!" ejaculated Mrs. Bixbee. "You'll think (to John) we're reg'ler heathin."
"I guess not," said John, smiling and much amused.
Presently Sairy appeared with four tumblers which she distributed, and was followed by David bearing a bottle. He seated himself and began a struggle to unwire the same with an ice-pick. Aunt Polly leaned forward with a look of perplexed curiosity.
"What you got there?" she asked.