They came out on the veranda. Uncle Peabody said nothing, but I could see that he couldn't stand it either. My brain was working fast.
"Come here, sir," Uncle Peabody called.
I knew it was serious, for he had never called me "sir" before. I went slowly to the steps.
"My lord!" Aunt Deel exclaimed. "Look at that lip and the honey all over him—ayes! I tell ye—I can't stan' it."
"Say, boy, is there anything on this place that you ain't tipped over?" Uncle Peabody asked in a sorrowful tone. "Wouldn't ye like to tip the house over?"
I was near breaking down in this answer:
"I went into the but'ry and that pan jumped on to me."
"Didn't you taste the honey?"
"No," I drew in my breath and shook my head.
"Liar, too!" said Aunt Deel. "I can't stan' it an' I won't."