“Now get him a good plateful, Ma,” said the farmer, getting into his own chair. “Land—I hain’t worked so hard for many a day— Whew!”
But although David had a “good plateful” before him, it was impossible for him to eat to the satisfaction of the good people, as he turned anxious eyes upon Farmer Brown and then to the door.
“I don’t b’lieve he’ll swaller enough to keep a crow alive,” said Mrs. Brown in dismay.
“Pa, wouldn’t it be best to do up some vittles in a paper, an’ he can eat on the way.”
“I’ve come to the conclusion it would,” said her husband grimly.
“An’ I’ll put in some cookies for th’ little gal,” said his wife, darting into the pantry to the big stone jar.
“An’ I’ll harness up,” said Mr. Brown, going to the big door.
The young farmer looked up from his dinner. “You better take my horse, Mr. Brown,” he said.
“Kin you spare her?”
“Yes—an’ take th’ buggy too. You can have it all as easy as anything. You an’ me are such close neighbors, I can come over an’ git it to-night.”