“Then I’ll go to the nearest hotel,” said the disappointed man,” and get a nice dinner.”
“We’ll go too,” said Budge. “Pie an’ cake an’ all such things don’t fill people a bit on picnics.”
“Then a little emptiness will be best for you,” said Mr. Burton. “You remain here with your aunt.”
“Well, hurry up, then,” said Budge. “Here’s the afternoon half gone, Aunt Alice says, and you haven’t made us a whistle, or taken us in swimmin’, or let us catch fishes, or throwed big stones in the water for us, or anythin’.”
Mr. Burton departed with becoming meekness, his nephew’s admonition ringing in his ears, while the boys hovered solemnly about their aunt until she exclaimed:
“Why are you acting so strangely, boys?”
“Oh, we feel kind o’s forlorn, an’ we want to be comforted,” said Budge.
“Will you comfort poor Uncle Harry when he comes back?” asked Mrs. Burton.
“Why, I heard him once tell you that you were his comfort,” said Budge; “and comforts oughtn’t to be mixed up if folks is goin’ to get all the good out of ’em; that’s what papa says.”
Mrs. Burton kissed both nephews effusively and asked them what she could do for them.