"I keep thinking how good it'll taste. Aunt Calline makes mighty good pound-cake. I do love pound-cake!"
"Like it, you mean, John," said his sister Elsie, looking back over her shoulder.
"I don't mean like," said John. "If there is anything I love better than father and mother, brother and sister, it's pound-cake."
"But there isn't anything," said Puss.
"My kingdom for a slice!" said John, with a tragic air. "I don't believe I can stand it to wait till lunch-time."
"Why, it hasn't been a half-hour since you ate breakfast. Are you hungry?" Elsie said.
"No, I'm not hungry; I'm ha'nted." John pronounced the word with a flatness unwritable. "The pound-cake ha'nts me; the fried chicken ha'nts me; the citron ha'nts me. I see 'em!" John glared at the vacant air as though he saw an apparition. "I taste 'em! I smell 'em! I feel moved to call on him" (here Jacob Isaac was indicated by a backward glance and movement) "to yield the wittles or his life. Look here!" he added, suddenly reining-up his horse and speaking in dead earnest, "let's eat the snack now. Halt!" he cried to the advance couple, "we're going to eat."
"Going to eat?" cried Elsie. "You're not in earnest?"
"Yes, I am. I can't rest. The cake and things ha'nt me."
"Well, do for pity's sake eat something, and get done with it," Elsie said.