"There is no arguing with you, everybody says; so I'll go and see how my cakes bake."
Mr. Eastmam came in to tea, contrary to his usual custom.
"Clarina, has your father sold that great calf of his?" he inquired, as he seated himself snugly beside his "better half."
"Indeed, I do not know, sir," answered Clarina, biting her lip to avoid laughing.
"I heard Mr. Montgomery ask him the same question, this morning; and Pa said 'yes,' I believe," said Miss Norwood, smiling.
"How much did he get for it?"
Miss Norwood did not know.
"Like Mary, I see," said Mr. Eastman. "Now I'll warrant you that Debby can tell the price of every creature I've sold this year."
"Yes, father; I remember as plain as day, how much you got from that simple Joe Slater, for the white-faced calf—how much you got for the black-faced sheep, Rowley and Jumble, and for Star and Bright. Oh, how I want to see Bright! And then there is the black colt—you got forty dollars for him, didn't you, father?"
"Yes, Debby; you are a keen one," said Mr. Eastman triumphantly. "Didn't I tell you so, Julia?"