nosegay, an' five six diff'rent
forks an' a lot o' knives, though fer that matter," remarked the
speaker, "the' wa'n't but one knife in the lot that amounted to
anythin', the rest on 'em wouldn't hold nothin'; an' the' was three four
sort of chiney slates with what they call--the--you 'n me----"

"Menu," suggested John.

"I guess that's it," said David, "but that wa'n't the way it was spelt.
Wa'al, I set down an' tucked my napkin into my neck, an' though I
noticed none o' the rest on 'em seemed to care, I allowed that 't
wa'n't _my_ shirt, an' mebbe Price might want to wear it agin 'fore 't
was washed."

John put his handkerchief over his face and coughed violently. David
looked at him sharply. "Subject to them spells?" he asked.

"Sometimes," said John when he recovered his voice, and then, with as
clear an expression of innocence as he could command, but somewhat
irrelevantly, asked, "How did you get on with Mrs. Price?"

"Oh," said David, "nicer 'n a cotton hat. She appeared to be a quiet
sort of woman that might 'a' lived anywhere, but she was dressed to
kill--an' so was the rest on 'em, fer that matter," he remarked with a
laugh. "I tried to tell Polly about 'em afterwuds, an'--he, he, he!--she
shut me up mighty quick, an' I thought myself at the time, thinks I,
it's a good thing it's warm weather, I says to myself. Oh, yes, Mis'
Price made me feel quite to home, but I didn't talk much the fust part
of dinner, an' I s'pose she was more or less took up with havin' so many
folks at table; but fin'ly she says to me, 'Mr. Price was so annoyed
about your breakfust, Mr. Harum.'

"'Was he?' I says. 'I was afraid you'd be the one that 'd be vexed at
me.'

"'Vexed with you? I don't understand,' she says.

"''Bout the napkin I sp'iled,' I says. 'Mebbe not actially sp'iled,' I
says, 'but it'll have to go into the wash 'fore it c'n be used agin.'
She kind o' smiled, an' says, 'Really, Mr. Harum, I don't know what you
are talkin' about.'

"'Hain't nobody told ye?' I says. 'Well, if they hain't they will, an' I
may 's well make a clean breast on't. I'm awful sorry,' I says, 'but
this mornin' when I come to the egg I didn't see no way to eat it 'cept
to peel it, an' fust I knew it kind of exploded and daubed ev'rythin'
all over creation. Yes'm,' I says, 'it went _off_, 's ye might say, like
old Elder Maybee's powder,' I guess," said David, "that I must 'a' ben
talkin' ruther louder 'n I thought, fer I looked up an' no