Her nephew stared doubtingly upon her.
“Will you holler if I tell you?”
Aunt Corinne went through an impressive pantomime of deeding and double-deeding herself not to holler.
“Will you be afraid all the rest of the night?”
No; aunt Corinne intimated that her courage would be revived and strengthened by knowing the worst about that wagon.
He pierced her with his dilating eyes, and beckoned her to put up her ear for the information.
“You ain't goin' to play any trick,” remonstrated his relative, “like you did when you got me to say grandmother, grandmother, thith—thith—thith, and then hit my chin and made me bite my tongue?”
Robert was forced to chuckle at the recollection, but he assured aunt Corinne that grandmother, grandmother, thith—thith—thith was far from his thoughts. He hesitated, with aunt Corinne's ear jogging against his chin. Then in a loud whisper he communicated:
“It was a man with a pig's head on him!”