Uncle Peabody rarely made any answer, and for a time thereafter Aunt
Deel acted as if she were about done with him. She would go around with
a stern face as if unaware of his presence, and I had to keep out of her
way. In fact I dreaded the butternut trousers almost as much as she
did.

Once Uncle Peabody had put on the butternut trousers, against the usual
protest, to go to meeting.

"Ayes! you've got 'em on ag'in," said Aunt Deel. "I suppose your black
trousers ain't good 'nough. That's 'cause you know Edna Perry is goin'
to be there--ayes!"

Edna Perry was a widow of about his age who was visiting her sister in
the neighborhood.

Aunt Deel wouldn't go to church with us, so we went off together and
walked home with Mrs. Perry. As we passed our house I saw Aunt Deel
looking out of the window and waved my hand to her.

When we got home at last we found my aunt sitting in her armchair by the
stove.

"You did it--didn't ye?--ayes," she demanded rather angrily as we came
in.

"Done what?" asked Uncle Peabody.

"Shinin' up to that Perry woman--ain't ye?--ayes! I see you're bound to
git married--ayes!"