“Miss Ma’shall, dat’s de lastest of dat two poun’ of salt meat.”
Mrs. Marshall smiled again.
“Have the overseer go to town this morning, Ca’line, and lay in what supplies are needed. Have we any fowls on the place?”
“Yas ’um, dey’s fowls, but dey’s only ‘aiggers.’ Dey ain’t ‘eaters.’”
As Mrs. Marshall looked up in surprise, Morey experienced the first serious moment of his life.
“It’s one of Amos’ jokes, mater. I understand. I’ll tell you about it after a bit.”
“Amos is really very trying at times,” was Mrs. Marshall’s only comment.
“As for meat, Ca’line,” went on Morey gaily, “don’t bother. Amos and I are going for trout this morning. We’ll have a fish dinner today.”
“Your father was very fond of trout,” exclaimed Morey’s mother. “I’m so glad you’re going. By the way, Mortimer, the first day you find the time Major Carey wants you to call. He’s very fond of you.” Then, thoughtfully, “Have you any engagement this evening? We might drive over late today.”