"Is it about daddy?" questioned Janice again.
"No, 'tain't nothin' about Brocky," said Uncle Jason more stoutly. "I—I felt bad for a minute."
"What's the matter with you? Is it yer digestion again? If you air goin' to get that on ye at your time o' life where'll you be when you're an old man?" demanded Aunt 'Mira. "My victuals ain't never suited ye none too well——"
"I've et 'em for more'n twenty year, ain't I?" snapped her husband, sitting down heavily in his chair again.
"Under protest, I don't doubt," sighed Aunt 'Mira. "I know I ain't as good a cook as some."
"'The Lord sends the food but the devil sends the cooks,'" quoted Marty in an undertone to his cousin.
"You're good enough," Uncle Jason gruffly stated.
"Oh, no I ain't," was the mournful reply. "I know my risin' bread never did suit ye, Jase Day. And ye said yer mother's pies was fur an' away better'n mine."
"When'd I ever say that?" demanded the man.
"Jest after we was merried," Aunt 'Mira said, wiping her eyes on the corner of her apron.