The Sun Maid — Part 140

"Cooled off? That I sha'n't never be no more; not while I've got to cook for all creation."

"Mother Mercy, Mother Mercy! You are a puzzler. You won't let the people go anywhere else than to your house as long as there's room to squeeze another body in; and----"

"Of course. But people who keep taverns usually take pay for entertaining their guests."

"Gaspar Keith! You say that to me, after the raisin' I gave you? The idee! When not a blessed soul of the lot has got a cent to bless himself with."

"But I have cents, plenty of them; and I want you to let me bear this expense for you. I insist upon it."

"Well, lad, I always did think you was a little too sharp after the money. But I didn't 'low you'd begrudge folks their _blessings_, too."

"Blessings? Aren't you complaining about so much hard work, and haven't you the right? I know that no private family has cared for so many as you have, and----"

"Oh, do drop that! I tell you _I_ ain't a private family; I'm a tavern. Oh! I don't know what I am nor what I'm sayin'. I--I reckon I'm clean beat and tuckered out."

"So you are, dear. But rest and I'll make you a cup of tea. If you leave those people to themselves and they get hungry again they'll cook _for_ themselves. They'll have to. But to a good many of these refugees this is a sort of picnic business. They have left their homes, it's true; but they haven't seen so many human faces in years and----"

"They haven't had such a good time! I noticed that. They seemed as bright as children at a frolic. Well, we ought to help them get what fun they can out of so serious a matter," commented Gaspar.

"Serious! I should say so. That's what sent me here. Abel, he was on the wharf, and he says the ships are coming down the lake full of soldiers; and what with them and the folks already here and only a hundred and fifty head to feed 'em with, and some of these refugees eat as much as ary parson I ever saw, and the old Doctor trying to preach to 'em, sayin' it's the best opportunity--my land! The way some folks can get sweet out of bitter is a disgrace, I declare. And as for that Ossy, the dirty scamp, he's broke more dishes, washing them, than I've got left. And I run over to see if you'd let me have ary dish you've got, or shall I give 'em their stuff right in their hands? And how long have I got to go on watchin' that wild Osceolo? I wish you'd take him back and shut him up in your wood-shed again."