"Papum," she called, speaking clear and distinct, as though to the
deaf, "there's your coffee there at your elbow; be careful, you'll
tip it over. Victorine, push his cup further on the table. Is it
strong enough for you, Papum'"
"Eh? Ah, yes--yes--yes," murmured the old man, looking vaguely
about him; "coffee, to be sure"--and he emptied the cup at a
single draught, hardly knowing whether it was coffee or tea. "Now
I'll take a roll," he continued, in a monotonous murmur. "Where
are the rolls? Here they are. Hot rolls are bad for my digestion--
I ought to eat bread. I think I eat too much. Where's my place
in the paper?--always lose my place in the paper. Clever
editorials this fellow Eastman writes, unbiassed by party
prejudice--unbiassed--unbiassed." His voice died to a whisper.
The breakfast proceeded, Travis supervising everything that went
forward, even giving directions to Victorine as to the hour for
serving dinner. It was while she was talking to Victorine as to
this matter that Snooky began to whine.
"Stop!"
"And tell Maggie," pursued Travis, "to fricassee her chicken, and
not to have it too well done--"
"Sto-o-op!" whined Snooky again.
"And leave the heart out for Papum. He likes the heart--"
"Sto-o-op!"
"Unbiassed by prejudice," murmured Mr. Bessemer, "vigorous and to
the point. I'll have another roll."
"Pa, make Howard stop!"
"Howard!" exclaimed Travis; "what is it now?"
"Howard's squirting watermelon-seeds at me," whined Snooky, "and
Pa won't make him stop.
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