“Plain bread is good, Kittie; quite good enough for tramps. Do you suppose that the tramp would give up his breakfast for you?”
“It wasn’t a tramp, Grandma Dobson.”
“Who then?”
“Please don’t ask me another word. O, I am so hungry. Will you let me help myself?”
“Sit right down here, poor child, and eat all you want.”
Kate seated herself beside the pine table, scrubbed to its best estate of cleanliness, and Mrs. Dobson placed upon it a whole loaf of bread, a three-pound roll of butter, and a four-quart pan of milk.
“I’ll tell all the tramps I meet where to come,” said Kate laughing, as she proceeded to cut the loaf.
“Josh knows a tramp the instant he sees one,” said Mrs. Dobson, “and I always have to feed them outside the gate.”
“Where is Josh this morning, grandma?”
“He has gone down to the shore with Harry; it’s most time for them to get back now. We will have the clams they fetch home for dinner, if you will stay.”