"Hello!" he exclaimed, turning around, "did you make your sleep out?"
"Yes sir," she said, briefly. "Where shall I put this dog?"
"Don't put him nowhere till we turn this cat out. Scat, pussy!" and with his foot he gently assisted the small animal kitchenwards.
"Now you can roast your pup here," he said, pointing to the vacated corner.
"Don't touch him," warned 'Tilda Jane, putting aside his outstretched hand. "He nips worse'n a lobster."
"Fine dog that," said the young man, ironically. "Come on now, let's fall to. I guess that rat's rampaging again."
"Yes, he's pretty bad," said 'Tilda Jane, demurely; and she seated herself in the place indicated.
Mrs. Minley waited on them herself, and, as she passed to and fro between the dining-room and kitchen, she bestowed many glances on the lean, lank, little girl with the brown face.
After a time she nudged Hank with her elbow. "Look at her!"
Hank withdrew his attention for a minute from his plate to cast a glance at the downcast head opposite. Then he dropped his knife and fork. "Look here! I call this kind of low-down."