“I had heard of your return, Cyrus,” he said. “It gave me much pleasure to learn that you were rebuilding and—er—renovating the—er—the ancestral—er—”
“The old home nest? Yup, I'm puttin' back a few feathers. Old birds like to roost comf'table. You've got a fairly roomy coop yourself.”
“Hum! Isn't it—er—I should suppose you would find it rather expensive. Can you—do you—”
“Yes, I can afford it, thank you. Maybe there'll be enough left in the stockin' to buy a few knickknacks for the yard. You can't tell.”
The captain glanced at the iron dogs guarding the Atkins gate. His tone was rather sharp.
“Yes, yes, certainly; certainly; of course. It gives me much pleasure to have you as a neighbor. I have always felt a fondness for the old place, even when you allowed it—even when it was most—er—run down, if you'll excuse the term. I always felt a liking for it and—”
“Yes,” was the significant interruption. “I judged you must have, from what I heard.”
This was steering dangerously close to the selectmen and the contemplated “sale for taxes.” The town clerk broke in nervously.
“Mr. Atkins,” he said, “there's been consider'ble talk in town about who's to be teacher downstairs this comin' year. We've sort of chawed it over among us, but naturally we wanted your opinion. What do you think? I'm kind of leanin' toward the Dawes woman, myself.”
The Congressman cleared his throat.