"I don't know what you mean by such a vulgar word," said Aunt Rachel,
disdainfully. "I've heard of drunkards and such kind of people being
jolly; but, thank Providence, I haven't got to that yet."

"If that was the only way to be jolly," said Jack, stoutly, "then I'd be
a drunkard; I wouldn't carry round such a long face as you do, Aunt
Rachel, for any money."

"It's enough to make all of us have long faces," said his aunt, sourly,
"when you are brazen enough to own that you mean to be a miserable
drunkard."

"I didn't say any such thing," said Jack, indignantly.

"Perhaps I have ears," remarked Aunt Rachel, sententiously, "and perhaps
I have not. It's a new thing for a nephew to tell his aunt that she
lies. They didn't use to allow such things when I was young. But the
world's going to rack and ruin, and I shouldn't wonder if the people was
right that say it's coming to an end."

Here Mrs. Harding happily interposed, by asking Jack to go round to the
grocery in the next street, and buy a pint of milk for breakfast.

Jack took his hat and started with alacrity, glad to leave the dismal
presence of Aunt Rachel.

He had scarcely opened the door when he started back in surprise,
exclaiming: "By hokey, if there isn't a basket on the steps!"