Mary and I followed more slowly.
“Hello, Mr. Seaforth,” said Della. “How are you?”
“Oh! I'm whippin' the cat,” he said easily. “How's all your care?”
“Whipping the cat,” I repeated in a shocked voice to Aunt Tabby, who was sitting on the door-step. “What does he mean?”
“It's just a country expression,” she said. “He's always saying something queer.”
But it was Della who was saying the queer thing now. “We're all stubbin' along,” she said cheerfully.
I could not help smiling. It sounded like tight shoes.
“Is your pa above ground?” pursued the man.
“No, he's in the barn cellar,” said Della, “beddin' the pigs.”
“I'll resurrect him,” said Mr. Seaforth. “He owes me two dollars for them two hawk guards.”