"Grand!" said he, tentatively.
"Correct! I'm going to have just such a dinner every day on my
farm."
"Then you'll have to have Polly too," said Tom, innocently.
"Well, you can spare her."
"No, sir," the boy answered. "You ain't good to her; she cries
every time you go away."
There was an awkward silence and the widow began to laugh and Polly
and Trove to blush deeply.
"Maybe she whispered, an' he give her a talkin' to," said Paul.
"Have you heard about Ezra Tower?" said Mrs. Vaughn, shaking her
head at the boys and changing the topic with shrewd diplomacy.
"Much; but nothing new," said Trove.
"Well, he swears he'll never cross the Fadden bridge or speak to
anybody in Pleasant Valley."
"Why?"
"The taxes. He don't believe in improvements, and when he tried to
make a speech in town-meeting they all jeered him. There ain't any
one good enough for him to speak to now but himself an'--an' his
Creator."
In the midst of dinner, they heard an outcry in the yard. Tom's
game-cock had challenged the old rooster, and the two were leaping
and striking with foot and wing. Before help came the old rooster
was badly cut in the neck and breast. Tunk rescued him, and
brought him to the woodshed, where Trove sewed up his wounds.
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