"Come here, sir," Uncle Peabody called.

I knew it was serious, for he had never called me "sir" before. I went
slowly to the steps.

"My lord!" Aunt Deel exclaimed. "Look at that lip and the honey all over
him--ayes! I tell ye--I can't stan' it."

"Say, boy, is there anything on this place that you ain't tipped over?"
Uncle Peabody asked in a sorrowful tone. "Wouldn't ye like to tip the
house over?"

I was near breaking down in this answer:

"I went into the but'ry and that pan jumped on to me."

"Didn't you taste the honey?"

"No," I drew in my breath and shook my head.

"Liar, too!" said Aunt Deel. "I can't stan' it an' I won't."

Uncle Peabody was sorely tried, but he was keeping down his anger. His
voice trembled as he said:

"Boy, I guess you'll have to--"

Uncle Peabody stopped. He had been driven to the last ditch, but he had
not stepped over it. However, I knew what he had started to say and sat