He
disdained to quarrel; he simply silenced and dominated her.
Will asked a few questions about crops, with such grace as he
could show, and Ed, with keen eyes in his face, talked easily and
stridently.
"Dinner ready?" he asked of Agnes. "Where's Pete?"
"He's asleep."
"All right. Let 'im sleep. Well, let's go out an' set 'up. Come, Dad,
sling away that Bible and come to grub. Mother, what the devul
are you sniffling at? Say, now, look here. If I hear any more about
this row, I'll simply let you walk down to meeting. Come, Will, set
up."
He led the way out into the little kitchen where the dinner was set.
"What was the row about? Hain't been breakin' some dish, Agg?"
"Yes, she has."
"One o' the blue ones?" winked Ed.
"No, thank goodness, it was a white one."
"Well, now, I'll git into that dod-gasted cubberd some day an' break
the whole eternal outfit. I ain't goin' to have this damned jawin'
goin' on," he ended, brutally unconscious of his own "jawin'."
After this the dinner proceeded in comparative silence, Agnes
sobbing under breath. The room was small and very hot; the table
was warped so badly that the dishes had a tendency to slide to the
center; the walls were bare plaster grayed with time; the food was
poor and scant, and the flies absolutely swarmed upon everything,
like bees.
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