IV

FROM A CLEAR SKY


The inmates of the Oakley house had not been long in their beds before
Hamilton was out of his and rousing his own little household.

"You, Joe," he called to his son, "git up f'om daih an' come right
hyeah. You got to he'p me befo' you go to any shop dis mo'nin'. You,
Kitty, stir yo' stumps, miss. I know yo' ma 's a-dressin' now. Ef she
ain't, I bet I 'll be aftah huh in a minute, too. You all layin' 'roun',
snoozin' w'en you all des' pint'ly know dis is de mo'nin' Mistah Frank
go 'way f'om hyeah."

It was a cool Autumn morning, fresh and dew-washed. The sun was just
rising, and a cool clear breeze was blowing across the land. The blue
smoke from the "house," where the fire was already going, whirled
fantastically over the roofs like a belated ghost. It was just the
morning to doze in comfort, and so thought all of Berry's household
except himself. Loud was the complaining as they threw themselves out of
bed. They maintained that it was an altogether unearthly hour to get up.
Even Mrs. Hamilton added her protest, until she suddenly remembered what
morning it was, when she hurried into her clothes and set about getting
the family's breakfast.

The good-humour of all of them returned when they were seated about
their table with some of the good things of the night before set out,
and the talk ran cheerily around.