Jed looked at her over his spectacles. "Yes," he answered. "Unless somethin' happens I'm gettin' dinner."
His visitor looked puzzled.
"Why, whatever happened you would be getting dinner just the same, wouldn't you?" she said. "You might not have it, but you'd be getting it, you know."
Jed took the mackerel out of the ice-chest and put the plate containing it on the top of the latter. "We-ell," he drawled, "you can't always tell. I might take so long gettin' it that, first thing I knew, 'twould be supper."
Humming a hymn he took another dish from the ice-chest and placed it beside the mackerel plate.
"What's that?" inquired Barbara.
"That? Oh, that's my toppin'-off layer. That's a rice puddin', poor man's puddin', some folks call it. I cal'late your ma'd call it a man's poor puddin', but it makes good enough ballast for a craft like me." He began singing again.
"'I know not, yea, I know not
What bliss awaits me there.
Di, doo de di di doo de—'"
Breaking off to suggest: "Better stay and eat along with me to-day, hadn't you, Babbie?"
Barbara tried hard not to seem superior.