"
"Could I mend 'em yis'day, when I didn't have 'em to mend? or las'
night, when they was wringin' wet? Le' me alone, now, with your
nonsense!"
"But you can mend them to-morrow," said the mischievous girl, delighted
to puzzle her grandmother.
"And let that poor lorn chile go in rags over Sunday, freezin' cold
weather like this? Guess I a'n't so onfeelin,'--an' you a'n't nuther,
for all you like to tease your ole granny so! Bless the chile, seems to
me he's jest gwine to bring us good luck. I feel as though the Angel of
the Lord did ra'ly come into the house with him las' night! Wish I had
somefin' ra'l good for him for his breakfas' now! He'll be dreffle
hungry, that's sartin. Make a rousin' good big Johnny-cake, mammy; and,
Creshy, you stop botherin', and slice up them 'ere taters for fryin'."
Soon the odor of the cooking stole up into the garret. Fessenden's
snuffed it with delighted senses. The feeling of his garments dry and
whole pleased him mightily. He heard the call to breakfast; and laughing
and rubbing his eyes, he followed Joe down the dark, uncertain footing
of the stairs.
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