Pettit was doing most of the talking, regaling his two auditors with tales from his abundant store of anecdotes.

At the end of a story at which Thatcher had guffawed loudly, they rose and crossed the veranda.

Hearing them approaching, Bassett rose promptly, and they shook hands all round.
If there were any embarrassments in the meeting for the older men, it was concealed under the cordiality of their greetings.

Pettit took charge of the situation.
"Well, sir," he boomed, "I might've known that if I came to town and broke into sassiety I'd get caught at it; you can't get away from home folks! Thatcher has filled me amply with expensive urban food in this sylvan retreat--nectar and ambrosia.

I'm even as one who drinks deep of the waters of life and throws the dipper in the well.