"But didn't ye git it, Si?" his wife persisted.
"Git it? No!"
"What!"
"I said no!"
"But who did, then?"
"The parson." "What! Parson John?"
"Certainly. Who else would be fool enough to interfere with me?"
"Well, well!" ejaculated Mrs. Farrington. "Do tell us about it, Si?"
"No, not a word more about it," snapped her husband, "till we git down to dinner. I'm most starved. Is it ready?"
"Dear me, yes. I'd clean fergot about it," and Mrs. Farrington bustled off to the kitchen.