(A. deigns no reply to Cal., but gazes earnestly at Car.)
Car. I declare, I’m afraid my bread is burning. I nearly forgot it. (Goes out, R.)
Cal. Heigho! I don’t feel like peeling apples. I guess I’ll see what girl loves me best. (Lifts the entire skin of an apple, which he has taken off in one long strip, and swings it slowly three times round his head, then drops it on the floor behind him. He stoops and examines it eagerly, then claps his hands.) Sure’s the world, that’s an L, an’ stands for Lizy Blake. I was most sure ’twould be so. That sign always comes true.
A. (who had been looking on with interest). What are you doing, aw, Caleb?
Cal. I’ve been finding out who was my true love. Want to try your hand at it?
A. (glancing round to see that no one else is present). Well, aw, I might try.
Cal. That one’s broken, but I’ll soon make you another. (Takes an apple, peels it, and passes the skin to A. The latter swings it very awkwardly round his head, staggering as he endeavors to do so without breaking it. At last he drops it on the floor behind him.)
Cal. I declare, Mr. Fitz, you’re about as graceful as a cow.
A. (unheeding his remark, and examining the skin, which lay curled up on the floor). That’s a C, aw, plain enough.
Cal. (looking at it closely). It’s an exact H. Who can that stand for? Oh, I know. It must be that you’re going to marry Aunt Hannah.