You go back to your kitchen and hurry up breakfast--waffles, remember,--and some corn pone and a scallop shell or two--I'm as hungry as a bear." The whole party were mounting the steps now, St.George carrying the guns, Todd loaded down with the game--ten brace of canvas-backs and redheads strung together by their bills--the driver of the gig following with the master's big ducking overcoat and smaller traps--the four dogs crowding up trying to nose past for a dash into the wide hall as soon as Todd opened the door.
"Anybody been here lately, Todd ?" his master asked, stopping for a moment to get a better grip of his heaviest duck gun.
"Ain't nobody been yere partic'ler 'cept Mister Harry Rutter.

Dey alls knowed you was away.

Been yere mos' ev'ry day--come ag'in yisterday." "Mr.Rutter been here!--Well, what did he want ?" "Dunno, sah,--didn't say.

Seemed consid'ble shook up when he foun' you warn't to home.

I done tol' him you might be back to-day an' den ag'in you mightn't--'pended on de way de ducks was flyin'.