"No, that's the one nasty thing about cake," said Jim. He sat on a rock and addressed the wondering little pilgrim, who was watching his face with baby gravity. "Did she scare the boy?" he asked. "Is he gittin' hungry? Does pardner want some breakfast?"
The little fellow nodded.
"What would little Skeezucks like old brother Jim to make for breakfast?"
The quaint bit of a man drew a trifle closer to the rough old coat and timidly answered:
"Bwead—an'—milk."
The two men started mildly.
"By jinks!" said the awe-smitten Keno. "By jinks!—talkin'!"
"I told you so," said Jim, suppressing his excitement. "Bread and milk?" he repeated. "Just bread and milk. You poor little shaver! Wal, that's as easy as oyster stew or apple-dumplin'. Baby want anything else?"
The small boy shook a negative.
"By jinks!" said Keno, as before. "Look at him go it!"