"I've got to carve this turkey, friend," said the boy to Bolles.

"I'll do my best to help eat it," returned the school-master, smiling.

"Misser Dlake," said poor Sam, "I solly you. I velly solly you."


IV

"Reserve your sorrow, Sam," said Dean Drake. "Give us your soup for a
starter. Come," he said to Bolles. "Quick."

He went into the dining-room, prompt in his seat at the head of the
table, with the school-master next to him.

"Nice man, Uncle Pasco," he continued. "But his time is not now. We have
nothing to do for the present but sit like every day and act perfectly
natural."

"I have known simpler tasks," said Mr. Bolles, "but I'll begin by
spreading this excellently clean napkin."

"You're no schoolmarm!" exclaimed Drake; "you please me."

"The worst of a bad thing," said the mild Bolles, "is having time to
think about it, and we have been spared that."

"Here they come," said Drake.

They did come. But Drake's alert strategy served the end he had tried