“Halloo, parson! Good morning. Glad to see you. Hot—ain’t it?”
“Good morning, Edmund,” replied his visitor, apparently not the least disconcerted by the rudeness of the reception, and extending his hand, which the other enclosed in his great palm, and shook with a heartiness that caused the good man to reel in his saddle.
“How are you, Elizabeth, and all the children?”
“Well, so’s to be crawling. Lizzy always keeps herself worked down. ‘Tain’t so much the work,—though we milk seven cows, for Lizzy’s a master hand to turn off work, and real rugged,—but she’s forever scrubbing and scouring. I tell her ‘tain’t a bit of use, but she will do it. Then father’s a good deal of care.”
“How is the old gentleman?”
“He’s real strong at the stomach; eats and sleeps as well as ever he did; but he sometimes has the rheumatics.”
CHAPTER X.
WHERE THE HARD STREAK CAME FROM.