"Well, see 't y' do. I can't do it; I've got bread to mix an' a chicken to dress. Say, if you don't begin cuttin' till day after to-morrow, we can go down to the sociable to-morrow night. Last one o' the season."
"I wish it was the last one before the kingdom come," growled Bert as he "stomped" out the door. "They're a bad lot. The idea o' takin' down four dollars' worth o' grub an' then payin' four dollars for the privilege of eatin' half of it! I'll take my chicken here, when I'm hungry."
"Bert ain't partial to sociables, is he, pap?" laughed Flaxen.
"I should hate to have the minister dependin' on Bert for a livin'."
"Sa-ay, pap!"
"Wal, babe?"
"I expect I'll haf t' have a new dress one o' these days."
"Think so?"
"You bet."
"Why, what's the matter with the one y' got on? Ain't no holes in it that I can see," looking at it carefully and turning her around as if she were on a pivot.