"I've got to settle this thing myself," he said as he turned resolutely in the direction of the tent, "and the next thing to do is to talk with Aunt Nancy herself. She knows more goodness than all these people put together."
His mind once made up, he was eager to reach the tent, and ran at full speed, arriving just as Deacon Downs summoned the occupants of this particular dwelling to dinner.
The little woman was acting as cook, a post of duty to which she had been elected each year because the remainder of the party knew she would perform the arduous labors without complaint.
To speak with her now would be to attract the attention of all, and Jack believed he should wait until a more convenient season.
Therefore he seated himself at the rough table around which all the others, save Aunt Nancy, were gathered, and tried unsuccessfully to appear as if nothing unusual had occurred.
Jack's face told of some trouble, however, and when the deacon had refreshed himself with a large cup of Aunt Nancy's Mocha, he asked in a severe tone,—
"Master Dudley, is it possible that after living with as good a woman as Sister Curtis, you allow your passions to tempt you into fighting? Don't you remember what Dr. Watts says about letting 'dogs delight to bark and bite, for 'tis their nature,' et cetera?"
Perhaps Jack might have understood the deacon's question, had it not been for the last word.
What an "et cetera" was he hadn't the slightest idea, and instead of replying sat staring stupidly at his plate until Aunt Nancy came forward and asked, —
"What is it about Jack? Has he been doing anything out of the way?"