Abner laughed, but Herbert was too much shocked to share in his enjoyment.
“Come here and help me up, you Abner!” said his father.
“Not much, dad! If you hadn't tried to lick me you wouldn't have fallen!”
“Let me help you, sir!” said Herbert, conquering his instinctive disgust and approaching the fallen man.
“You're a gentleman!” murmured Barton, as he took the little boy's proffered hand and, after considerable ado, raised himself to a standing position. “You're a gentleman; I wish I had a boy like you.”
Herbert could not join in the wish. He felt that a father like Joel Barton would be a great misfortune.
But just then Mrs. Barton entered the yard, marching with long strides like a man's.
“Here's marm!” announced Abner.
Barton steadied himself as he turned to look at his wife.
“I want to see you, Mrs. B.,” he said. “When are you goin' to have dinner?”