your pap, and he
hain't laughed at me neither." So Julia advanced and shook her father's
hand with a tolerably good grace.

"I'm come for you to go home and see the folks," said Mr. Middleton; "so
you pick up your duds--and mind not to take a cussed bandbox--and after
dinner we'll start for home."

"It wants an hour of dinner time," said Julia, "and as we are not hungry,
we can start in a few moments, if you like."

"Fury-ation," said Mr. Middleton, "I wonder if we can. Well, start on then
afoot, if you're in such a hurry. I shan't budge an inch till I've had my
dinner; besides, I want to see Mr. Wilmot."

Julia saw that she must submit to the mortification of seeing her father
at Mrs. Crane's dinner table, and with a beating heart she heard the bell
summon them to the dining room. Mrs. Carrington did not appear--her nerves
had received too great a shock--and for that Julia was thankful. Dr. Lacey
sat by her father and paid him every possible attention.

"Will you take soup, Mr. Middleton?" asked Mrs. Crane.

"What kind of soup? Beef soup, or mud turkle?"

"It is vermicelli," said Mrs. Crane, hardly able to keep her face
straight.

"Vermifuge--vermifuge," repeated Mr. Middleton. "That's almighty queer
stuff to make soup on. No. I'm 'bleeged to you; I ain't in need of that ar
medicine."

Julia reddened, while Fanny burst into a laugh and said, "Father isn't
much used to French soups, I think."

"Use your napkin, father," softly whispered Julia.

"What shall I use that for?" said he. "My trousers are all tobacco spit
now, and grease won't hurt 'em any now. Halloo! Here waiter, bring me a
decent fork, for Lord knows I can't eat with this here shovel and if I
take my fingers Tempest'll raise a row de dow."

The servant looked at his mistress, who said, "Samuel, bring Mr. Middleton
a steel fork."

When the dessert was brought in Mr. Middleton again exclaimed, as he took
his plate of pudding, "Now what can this be?"

"It is tapioca pudding," said Mrs. Crane.

"Tap-an-oakky," returned Mr. Middleton. "Well, if you don't have the
queerest things to eat! You ought to come to my house. We don't have any
your chicken fixin's nor little three-cornered hankerchers laid out at
each plate."

At last, to Julia's great relief, dinner was over, and she got her father
started for home. Suddenly Mr. Middleton exclaimed, "That ar doctor is a
mighty fine chap. Why don't you set your cap for him, Sunshine?"

"It would be