"Ever make biscuit?"
"We eat corn pones mostly at home."
"Well, you can fry some bacon and eggs, I guess."
He gave the boy a small frying pan, showed him where to place it, then lighted his lamp.
"That beats pine knots, don't it?" he asked, while Ralph noted with a new wonder the ease and rapidity with which Mr. Quigg managed everything.
While the meat and eggs were frying, the artist made coffee, thrust some potatoes into the oven beside the biscuit, then completed his morning toilet over a tin basin and a hand mirror.
"Better take a wash and a brush," said he to Ralph. "I'll dish up the breakfast."
So, while Mr. Quigg set the table, the lad washed his face, brushed his hair, and despite his homely looking jeans and rough brogans, presented a very sightly appearance as he sat down opposite the little photographer.
At least so the latter thought, and remained in apparent deep reflection while eating.
Ralph saw the white granulated sugar for the first time, and, mistaking it for salt, was about to sprinkle some on his egg.