"Set right down on the settle, and I'll give you what's left of our breakfast."
Tom Burns obeyed with alacrity.
A plate of cold bacon, a cold potato, and some corn bread were placed before him, and he ate them almost voraciously. There had been times in his life when he would have turned up his nose at such fare, but not now.
"My good lady," he said, "you have saved my life."
"Well, you must 'a' been hungry," said the woman. "A man that'll eat cold vittles, especially cold potato, ain't shammin'."
"I wish I had money to offer you--"
"Oh, never mind that, you're welcome. Can I do anything more for you?"
"I feel sick, and sometimes, though I am a temperance man, I take whisky for my health. If you had just a sup--"
"Well, we haven't, and if we had I wouldn't give you any."
"You misjudge me, madam. You must not think I am a drinker."