“I don’t care for any, thank you,” said Betty, her heart far away from sweet potatoes with sugar and butter.
Kettle paused for a minute in order to think of some other inducement.
“Aunt Tulip, she got a rice pudden’ wid gre’t big raisins in it, mos’ as big as my fist,” urged Kettle.
“No, thank you,” replied Betty absently.
But Kettle’s sympathy could not be bottled up.
“Miss Betty,” pleaded Kettle, “lemme go out an’ crack you up some wun’nuts,” by which Kettle meant walnuts.
Betty’s patience was giving out.
“No, Kettle,” she said sharply. “I don’t want anything except tea and toast, as I told you.”
“But, Miss Betty,” persisted Kettle, edging toward the door, “I got a big bag o’ chestnuts, an’ they mighty good roasted on the kitchen shovel.”