"Cousin Sim says it ain't so, and you know better, Cousin Sam," said Mary Sands.
"Tell him he knows wuss!" grunted Mr. Sam.
"Cousin Sam says you know wuss, Cousin Sim, and that will do!" said Mary Sands quietly.
It was the same at dessert. Calvin praised the admirable quality of the pie.
"Now this," he said, "is my idee of a squash pie. It isn't slickin' up and tryin' to look like custard, nor yet it don't make believe it's pumpkin; it just says, 'I am a squash pie, and if there's a better article you may let me know.'"
"I'm real pleased you like it," said Mary Sands modestly; "it's Cousin Lucindy's recipe. She must have been a master hand at pies."
"She certinly was!" said Mr. Sam. "Squash and pumpkin and cranberry, Ma was fust-rate in all; but mince was her best holt."
"Tell him it warn't," said Mr. Sim, fixing his cousin with a burning eye. "Tell him her apple bet it holler."
"Cousin Sim says it warn't, Cousin Sam, and her apple bet it holler," repeated Mary Sands cheerfully.
"Tell him he's a turnip-head!" said Mr. Sam.