"I'll make her show me how. Dear me, Pen! did you know how late it is? Where can all the time have gone to?"
Corry and Porter knew where a part of theirs had gone, after they got back from the barns, and delivered to Mrs. Farnham and aunt Judith the eggs they had found. Corry got out his checker-board, and laid it on the table in the sitting-room.
"It's a big one," said Porter. "Where are your men?"
"Hanging up there in that bag. The wooden men got lost. We take horse-chestnuts for black men, and walnuts for white ones."
"S'pose you make a king?"
"That's a butternut, if it's black. If it's white, you put on one of those chunks of wood."
There was no danger of their getting out of checker-men; but Corry Farnham had a lesson to learn.
Porter Hudson knew a great deal more about checkers than he did about tree-chopping or rabbits.
Game after game was played, and it seemed to Corry as if his cousin "hit some of them on a full run." He got up from the last one they played, feeling a very fair degree of respect for Port; and the latter was pretty well restored to his own good opinion of himself.
That was something, for all his morning's experiences had been a little the other way; and he was not half sure he could again hit a running rabbit, if he should have a chance to try.