"It's only a parrot! Sit down again. There he is at your elbow. Jocko is his name. He does my swearing for me. My grandson and a friend of his taught him that, and I have taught him a few other things besides. Good Jocko! Speak up, boy!"
"Old friends to talk; old books to read; old wine to drink! Zooks! Hooray for Arthur and Will! they're the boys!"
"That was my grandson and his friend. What's the matter? Feel faint, hey?"
"Yes, I am—faint. I must get out into the air."
"Nothing of the sort! You'll come upstairs and lie down."
"No! no! not in this house. Never! never!"
"Cat's foot! Don't talk to me! Here! give me your arm! Do as I say! There!"
And as they passed up the stairway the parrot cried, "Old friends!" And Direxia said, "I'm going to loose the bulldog, Mis' Tree, and Deacon Weight says he'll be over in two minutes."
"There isn't any dog in the house, and Deacon Weight is at Conference, and won't be back till the last of the week. That will do, Direxia; you mean well, but you are a ninny-hammer. This way! This is my grandson's room—he died here—what's the matter—feel faint—hey?"
"Yes!—I do—"