"Right well."

"Um-h-h." Silence then fell until Jinny again found speech.

"Old Bess, that's the Cunnel's favoright dawg, you-all know, she done
have 'leven puppies las' night."

"That so?"

"Yassah. Cunnel, he's off down on the Sun-flowah."

"Um-h-h."

"Yassah; got most all his dawgs wid 'im. We goin' to have
b'ah meat now for sho',"--this with a wide grin.

"Reckon so," said the visitor. "When's Cunnel coming back, you
reckon?"

"I dunno, suh, but he sho' won't come back lessen he gets a b'ah. If
you-all could wait a while, yon-all could take back some b'ah meat,
if you wantuh."

"Um-h-h," said the man, and fell again into silence. To all
appearances, he was willing to wait here indefinitely, forgetful of
the pail of milk, toward which the sun was now creeping ominously
close. The way back home seemed long and weary at that moment. His
lip drooped still more laxly, as he sat looking out vaguely.

Not so calm seemed his consort, she of the sun-bonnet. Eestored to