"Indeed, dadda," protested the girl, eagerly, "mommy was
most unjust. I was to stir some syrup, and Charles came into
the kitchen and would talk to me, and as I could n't leave the
pot, I had to listen, and then--well

"I thought as much!" cried the squire, heartily, when
Janice paused. "Where the syrup is, there'll find ye the
flies. But we'll have no horse-fly buzzing about ye. My
fine gentleman shall be taught where he belongs, if it takes
the whip to do it."

"No, dadda," exclaimed Janice. "He spoke but to warn
me of danger to you. He says there 's preparation to tar
and feather you unless you--you do something."

"Foo!" sniffed the squire. "Let them snarl. I'll show
them I'm not a man to be driven by tag, long tail, and
bobby."

"But Charles--" began the girl.

"Ay, Charles," interrupted Mr. Meredith. "I've no doubt
he's one of 'em. 'T is always the latest importations take
the hottest part against the gentry."

"Nay, dadda, I think he--"

"Mark me, that's what takes the tyke to the village so
often."