"I wouldn't go with you," said Emma.
"If you was bad, I'd whip you so you couldn't stand," said the old lady, her eyes snapping. "I've got a granddarter about as big as you; but she wouldn't dare to sass me the way you have."
"I'm glad you ain't my grandmother," said Emma. "I don't want a dirty grandmother like you."
"You mustn't talk so, Emma," said Ben, thinking it time to interfere.
"Talkin' won't do no good. She ought to be whipped," said the old lady, shaking her head and scowling at Emma.
"Don't you want to go on deck and see the steamer start?" asked Ben, as the only means of putting a stop to the irrepressible conflict between the old lady and his charge.
"Oh, yes; let us go up."
So they went on deck, where Emma was not a little interested at the varied sights that met her eye.
"Did you ever see such an ugly old woman, Ben?" asked Emma, when they had reached the top of the stairs.
"Hush, Emma! You must be more particular about what you say. You shouldn't have said anything about her taking snuff."