"The poor thing," said one of the girls. "He means a cracker."
Estelle Clayton came out of the store. "Supper's all ready for you, Mr. Mail-Carrier. Come right in and sit down."
"I'm a-coming—now watch me," he replied, with intent to be funny.
The girls accompanied him into the little living-room.
"Oh, my, don't some folks live genteel? See the canned peaches!"
"And the canned lobster!"
"And the hot biscuit!"
"Sit down, Jim, and we'll pour the tea and dip out the peaches."
Rivers seated himself at the little pine table. "I guess you'd better whistle while you're dipping the peaches," he said, pointedly.
Miss Thompson dropped the spoon. "What impudence!"