[pg 046]"It is vermicelli," said Mrs. Crane, hardly able to keep her face straight.
"Vermifuge—vermifuge," repeated Mr. Middleton. "That's almighty queer stuff to make soup on. No. I'm 'bleeged to you; I ain't in need of that ar medicine."
Julia reddened, while Fanny burst into a laugh and said, "Father isn't much used to French soups, I think."
"Use your napkin, father," softly whispered Julia.
"What shall I use that for?" said he. "My trousers are all tobacco spit now, and grease won't hurt 'em any now. Halloo! Here waiter, bring me a decent fork, for Lord knows I can't eat with this here shovel and if I take my fingers Tempest'll raise a row de dow."
The servant looked at his mistress, who said, "Samuel, bring Mr. Middleton a steel fork."
When the dessert was brought in Mr. Middleton again exclaimed, as he took his plate of pudding, "Now what can this be?"
"It is tapioca pudding," said Mrs. Crane.
"Tap-an-oakky," returned Mr. Middleton. "Well, if you don't have the queerest things to eat! You ought to come to my house. We don't have any your chicken fixin's nor little three-cornered hankerchers laid out at each plate."
At last, to Julia's great relief, dinner was over, and she got her father started for home. Suddenly Mr. Middleton exclaimed, "That ar doctor is a mighty fine chap. Why don't you set your cap for him, Sunshine?"