Shadrach winked over his shoulder.
“Don't let that sacrifice worry you any,” he observed. “The sacrifice is mainly in Zoeth's eye. Fur's I'm concerned—well, Jabez Hedges told me yesterday that Rastus Young told him he cal'lated he'd have to be droppin' in at the store some of these nights to buy some rubber boots and new ileskins. We sold him the ones he's got four years ago and he ain't paid for 'em yet. No, no, Mary-'Gusta, don't you worry about that sacrifice. I can sacrifice Rastus Young's trade eight days in the week and make money by it. Course I didn't tell Zoeth that; have to humor these pious folks much as we can, you know.”
Mary smiled, but she shook her head. “It's no use your talking to me in that way, Uncle Shad,” she said. “I know you too well. And right in the Christmas season, too!”
Zoeth's welcome was as hearty, if not as exuberant, as Captain Shad's. He met her at the door and after the first hug and kiss held her off at arm's length and looked her over.
“My! my! my!” he exclaimed. “And this is our little Mary-'Gusta come back again! It don't seem as if it could be, somehow.”
“But it is, Uncle Zoeth,” declared Mary, laughing. “And ISN'T it good to be here! Well, Isaiah,” turning to Mr. Chase, who, aproned and shirtsleeved as usual, had been standing grinning in the background, “haven't you anything to say to me?”
Isaiah had something to say and he said it.
“Glad to see you,” he announced. “Feelin' pretty smart? Got a new hat, ain't you? Supper's ready.”
During the meal Mary was kept busy answering questions concerning school and her life at Mrs. Wyeth's. In her letters she had endeavored to tell every possible item of news which might be interesting to her uncles, but now these items were one by one recalled, reviewed, and discussed.
“'Twas kind of funny, that young Smith feller's turnin' up for dinner that time,” observed Mr. Hamilton. “Cal'late you was some surprised to see him, wan't you?”