"As white as a lamb, washed in the dew."
"Thank you, Mars Jasper, fur I ain't gwine be yere much longer, fur I's er gwine home. De road has been long an' I's almos' wore out, but I'll git home atter while, an' when I does, I gwine tell de Lawd erbout de folks down yere."
Tom and Lou came from the spring house, carrying a small jar, and the old man exclaimed: "Why, it must be heavy." His wife knew that he was charicaturing her and she stood contemptuous, with arms folded, as he sprang forward to assist the two "youngsters." "Let me help you," and pretending to stagger under a great weight, he took the jar and with great apparent difficulty put it on the table.
"Jasper," said his wife, "I wouldn't make light of it."
"Light of it! Why, I couldn't make light of anything so heavy."
"Father," said Lou, "the bees have swarmed and settled on the peach tree."
"That so? Why, I thought thar was honey in the air. Come on Jim an' help me hive 'em. Won't take but a minit." Jim began to roll up his sleeves. "Oh," protested the old man, "I don't want you to preach to 'em. Ma'm," he continued, addressing Mrs. Mayfield, "he always goes at 'em with his sleeves rolled up, and, I gad, he fetches 'em."
Jim strove to explain to Mrs. Mayfield, but Jasper pulled at him. "That's all right, Jim, she understands. Come on, or them bees might fly away. Come on, I tell you. Ma'm take yo' eye offen him so he kin come on. Thar, I thank you," he said, bowing, when Mrs. Mayfield looked in another direction. "Thankee, ma'm an' ef I had a eye as fetchin' as your'n I could haul wood with it. Come on, Jim." He drew the preacher out of the house, and Margaret said to Mrs. Mayfield: "Don't let Jasper fret you, ma'm."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Starbuck, to me he is an old time story book, illustrated."
"My father fret anybody?" cried Lou. "How could he?"