“Oh, no, Mr. Parlow, it wasn’t that!” Carolyn May said, shaking her head.
“But it might ha’ been,” chuckled the carpenter, “if you’d ever seen Chet eat.”
“Now, father!” admonished Miss Amanda.
“Never did see him eat, did you?” pursued the carpenter, still chuckling.
“No, sir.”
“Wal, he’s holler to his heels, and it’s an all-fired long holler, at that! Chet worked for Deacon Allbright, out on the South Road, ’fore he went to Stagg’s store. He only worked there part of a season, for he an’ the deacon couldn’t get along—no more’n twin brothers,” declared Mr. Parlow.
“Fust place, the deacon is rayther near—has enough on the table to eat, but jest enough, an’ that’s all. One o’ them tables where there ain’t no scrapin’s for ary cat or dog when the folks is through. But, to hear Deacon Allbright ask a blessin’ on it, you’d think ev’ry meal was a banquet.
“Wal, Chet was a boy, an’ he was tearin’ hungry, I reckon, when he got to the table, and the deacon’s long-winded prayers was too much for Chet’s appetite. With the dinner dished up and his plate full, that poor hungry little snipe had to wait while the deacon filled his mouth with big words.
“An’ one day at dinner, when they had some visitors,” chuckled Mr. Parlow, “it got too much for Chet Gormley. Ha’f-way through the deacon’s blessin’ the boy began to eat. I spect he couldn’t help it. The deacon didn’t have his eyes shut very tight, an’ he seen him, and frowned.
“But that didn’t make no manner o’ odds to Chet. He’d got a taste, and his appetite was whetted. He begun mowin’ away like a good feller. With righteous indignation, the deacon cleared his throat, and then ended his long prayer with this: