_broken_ vittles," he added, noticing the alarm upon the doctor's face.
"It's all as good as the best. Wait till you see!"

He began to clear the wash-stand in a businesslike manner, talking all
the time. "This here towel will do for a cloth. It's bran' clean--cross
my heart! I borrowed a dish or two offen the church. They know me....
We'll put the chicken in the middle and the ham along at this end and
the pie over there where it can't slip off--"

"I don't like pie, boy."

"I do. Pie's good for you. We'll put the beet salad by the chicken and
the cabbage salad by the ham and the chow-chow betwixt 'em. Then the
choc'late cake can go by the pie--"

"Boy, I don't like chocolate cake."

"Honest? Ah, you're kiddin' me! Really? Choc'late cake's awful good for
you. I love chocolate cake. This here cake was made by Esther Coombe's
Aunt Amy--it's a sure winner! Say, Mister, what do you like anyway?"

"Ever so many more things than I did yesterday. By Jove, that chicken
looks good!"

"Yep. That's Mrs. Hallard's chicken. I thought you'd want the best. She
ris' it herself. And made the stuffin' too."

"Did she 'ris' the ham also?"

"Nope. It's Miss Taylor's ham. Home cured. The minister thinks a whole