“'Bishy,” said Miss Pepper, “what do you s'pose has happened down to the Hammond tavern?”
“Oh, I know that,” was the reply. “I heard that long ago; Cap'n Eben's dead.”
“'Course he's dead; and I knew you knew it. Land sakes! don't be such a ninny. Why, I told you myself.”
“Well, I didn't know but you'd forgot. Anybody's li'ble to forget who they've told things to. Why, I've forgot more things—”
“Yes, there ain't no doubt about that. I've told you a million times, if I have once, to tuck your napkin round your neck when you've got your Sunday clothes on. And there you be this minute without a sign of a napkin.”
“Why, Laviny! I MUST have it round my neck. I know I—”
“Don't be so foolish! Think I'm blind? Can't I see you ain't got it? Now where is it?”
Kyan began a futile hunt for the missing napkin, in his lap, on the table, and finally under it.
“I don't understand,” he stammered, “where that napkin can be. I'm just as sure I had it and now I'm just as sure I ain't got it. What do you s'pose I done with it?”
“Goodness knows! 'Twouldn't surprise me if you'd et it, you're that absent-minded. Here! what's that stickin' out of your breast pocket?”