I cal'late your ma'd call it a man's poor puddin', but it makes good enough ballast for a craft like me." He began singing again.
"'I know not, yea, I know not What bliss awaits me there.
Di, doo de di di doo de--'" Breaking off to suggest: "Better stay and eat along with me to-day, hadn't you, Babbie ?" Barbara tried hard not to seem superior.
"Thank you," she said, "but I guess I can't.

We're going to have chicken and lemon jelly." Then, remembering her manners, she added: "We'd be awful glad if you'd have dinner with us, Mr.
Winslow." Jed shook his head.
"Much obliged," he drawled, "but if I didn't eat that mackerel, who would ?" The question was answered promptly.

While Mr.Winslow and his small caller were chatting concerning the former's dinner, another eager personality was taking a marked interest in a portion of that dinner.

Cherub, the Taylor cat, abroad on a foraging expedition, had scented from his perch upon a nearby fence a delicious and appetizing odor.

Following his nose, literally, Cherub descended from the fence and advanced, sniffing as he came.