“So you've run off,” he continued, after a pause, “I like your spunk,—just what I should have done myself. But tell me how you managed to get off without the old chap's finding it out.”
Paul related such of his adventures as he had not before told, his companion listening with marked approval.
“I wish I'd been there,” he said. “I'd have given fifty cents, right out, to see how old Mudge looked, I calc'late he's pretty well tired with his wild-goose chase by this time.”
It was now twelve o'clock, and both the travelers began to feel the pangs of hunger.
“It's about time to bait, I calc'late,” remarked the pedler.
The unsophisticated reader is informed that the word “bait,” in New England phraseology, is applied to taking lunch or dining.
At this point a green lane opened out of the public road, skirted on either side by a row of trees. Carpeted with green, it made a very pleasant dining-room. A red-and-white heifer browsing at a little distance looked up from her meal and surveyed the intruders with mild attention, but apparently satisfied that they contemplated no invasion of her rights, resumed her agreeable employment. Over an irregular stone wall our travelers looked into a thrifty apple-orchard laden with fruit. They halted beneath a spreading chestnut-tree which towered above its neighbors, and offered them a grateful shelter from the noonday sun.
From the box underneath the seat, the pedler took out a loaf of bread, a slice of butter, and a tin pail full of doughnuts. Paul, on his side, brought out his bread and gingerbread.
“I most generally carry round my own provisions,” remarked the pedler, between two mouthfuls. “It's a good deal cheaper and more convenient, too. Help yourself to the doughnuts. I always calc'late to have some with me. I'd give more for 'em any day than for rich cake that ain't fit for anybody. My mother used to beat everybody in the neighborhood on making doughnuts. She made 'em so good that we never knew when to stop eating. You wouldn't hardly believe it, but, when I was a little shaver, I remember eating twenty-three doughnuts at one time. Pretty nigh killed me.”
“I should think it might,” said Paul, laughing.