Seems like you ought to--a great big girl like you,"
said Mr. Cavendish, reduced to despair.
"It was Henry pickin' on Kep," cried Constance.
"I found a crack and he took it away from me! drug me off by the
legs, he did, and filled my stomach full of slivers!" wailed
Keppel, suddenly remembering he had a grievance. "You had ought
to let me see the pore gentleman!" he added ingratiatingly.
"Well, ain't you been seein' him every day fo' risin' two weeks
and upwards?--ain't you sat by him hours at a stretch?" demanded
Mr. Cavendish fiercely.
Sho--that didn't count, he only kept a mutterin'--sho!--arollin'
his head sideways, sho! And their six tow heads were rolled to
illustrate their meaning. And a-pluckin' at a body's hands!--and
they plucked at Mr. Cavendish's hands. Sho--did he say why he
done that?
"If you-all will quit yo' noise and dress, you-all kin presently
set by the pore gentleman. If you don't, I'll have to speak to
yo' mother; I 'low she'll trim you! I reckon you-all don't want
me to call her? No, by thunderation!--because you-all know she
won't stand no nonsense! She'll fan you; she'll take the flat of
her hand to you-all and make you skip some; I reckon I'd get into
my pants befo' she starts on the warpath. I wouldn't give her no
such special opportunity as you're offerin'!" Mr. Cavendish's
voice and manner had become entirely confidential and
sympathetic, and though fear of their mother could not be said to
bulk high on their horizon, yet the small Cavendishes were
persuaded by sheer force of his logic to withdraw and dress.
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