“Why,” said Budge, beginning to comprehend the drift of his aunt’s remarks, “I didn’t tie any piece of any chair to any dog. I tied all of Terry to a chair, and was bein’ as nice to him as you ever was to me, an’ all of a sudden he ran away with the whole of the chair. You remember that story in the Bible about some bad devils goin’ into a lot of pigs an’ makin’ ’em jump over the side of a mountain an’ into the ocean? Well, I think some of them same chaps must have got into Terry.”
“WHY AUNT ALICE! HOW DID YOU UPSET THAT TABLE?”
Mrs. Burton’s faith in this demonological theory was not strong, but she felt that her wrath had deserted her, so to escape further humiliation she descended to the parlor. The scene which presented itself to her gaze was one to which womanly language could not do justice, and her hurried attempts to repair the damage were not sufficient to prevent the reawakening of her anger. While still in the depths of her indignant despair, her nephew Budge entered the room and exclaimed honestly:
“Aunt Alice, how did you upset that table and break that handsome great big vase of make-believe flowers?”
Mrs. Burton instinctively rose to her feet, assumed a conventional attitude of Lady Macbeth, and shook a forefinger at Budge in a menacing manner that caused the child to shudder, as she uttered the single word—
“Tomorrow!”
CHAPTER X
“The beginning of the end!” was the remark with which Mr. Burton broke a short silence at his breakfast-table, on the last day of the time for which his little visitors had been invited.