“Oh, there are, mother, lots of ’em; and they scallop people and roast ’em.”
“Esau!” half shrieked the poor little woman wildly.
“Don’t eat ’em afterwards, do they, Mr Gordon?”
“Don’t listen to him, Mrs Dean,” I cried. “He is saying all this to tease you.”
“I thought so,” she cried triumphantly. “Then he doesn’t mean to go?”
I was silent, and Mrs Dean’s knife and fork dropped on the table.
“Tell me—the truth,” she cried, rising and laying her hand on my shoulder.
“The truth is, Mrs Dean, that we have both lost our situations, and that I’m afraid Mr Dempster will be so malicious that he will keep us from getting others.”
“Yes, I’m afraid of that,” she said sadly.
“So as we have heard that any one who likes to try can get on out there, we did think of going.”