“We'll keep chickens,” she said, “because I do like fresh eggs for breakfast. Let's see; this is the way 'twill be; you'll get up about five o'clock and kindle the fire, and—”
“Hey?”
“I say you'll get up at five o'clock and kindle the fire.”
“ME get up and kindle it?”
“Sartin; you don't expect I'm goin' to, do you?”
“No-o, I suppose not. It come kind of sudden, that's all. You see, I've been used to turnin' out about seven. Seldom get up afore that.”
“Seven! My soul! I always have my breakfast et by seven. Well, as I say, you get up at five and kindle the fire, and then you'll go out to the henyard and get what eggs there is. Then—”
“Then I'll come in and call you, and you'll come down and get breakfast. What breakfasts we will have! Eggs for you, if you want 'em, and ham and fried potatoes for me, and pie—”
“Pie? For breakfast?”
“Sartin. Laviny Marthy, my first wife, always had a piece of pie warmed for me, and I've missed it since. I don't really care two cents for breakfast without pie.”