"Po' miserble sinnah," grumbled Unc' Landy. "Bad man git her suah ef her foots keep on a-twitchen' when de banjo play."
"Oh, Mitty is all right," returned Nan smiling. "You are too hard on her, Unc' Landy."
"'Tain' no use talkin' to dese yer light-haided young uns," he replied. "Yuh jest bleedged to beat erligion inter 'em. Dey foots is on de broad road to destruction, and yuh bleedged to drive 'em back wid er stick, jest lak a sheep er a heifer er a pig when dey gits outer de parf. How much ham yuh reckon yuh wants, honey?"
"Oh, a couple of slices. I suppose you can tell how long to cook it. I had an awful time with my supper last night, and it wasn't very good after all. I forgot to put salt in the biscuits and the bacon was chunky."
"Whafo' yuh mek any fuss jest fo' yuh-alls?" said Unc' Landy. "Why yuh don' jest picnic till yo' Aunt Sarah come? 'Tain' no diffunce ef yuh chilluns ain' got a comp'ny brekfus."
"But it is a difference when we have two strangers."
"Strangers? Who dey?" Unc' Landy looked greatly surprised.
"The Gordon boys, Randolph and Ashby. They were to have come to-day, you know, but they got here yesterday instead."
"Law, honey, is dat so? An' de ole man ain' on han' to he'p yuh-alls out when dat fool chile Mitty away. Now, ain' dat scan'lous fo' Unc' Landy git ketched in de rain an' not git home in time fo' suppah? I clar it righ down owdacious. Nemmine, don' yuh werry, chile, I fix yo' brekfus. What yuh reckon yuh have?"
"Brile ham. Yes'm, and a pone, aig pone. How dat do?"
"Dey mo' in de hen-house, I reckon. I git 'em. Coffee, yuh bleedged ter have a good cup of coffee."
"Well, yes, I suppose Randolph drinks it and maybe Ashby does. We'll have it, anyhow."
"Might fry some taters, er tomats," suggested Unc' Landy.
"Den go 'long an' set de table, honey, whilst I git de aigs, an' den' yuh come tell ole Landy whar things is an' he git yo' brekfus. He cook, yass 'm, dat he kin. He domeskit, Landy are." And chuckling at this self praise the old man jogged down to the hen-house while Nan flew to set the table, greatly relieved at having so capable an assistant.
The breakfast turned out to be all it should. The ham was cooked to a turn; the egg pone, light and puffy, came to the table hot and delicious; the coffee was perfect; the tomatoes fried brown and surrounded by a tempting gravy. Nan tried to make conversation and her sisters ably assisted her, but the boys were not very responsive, though Nan concluded it was shyness and not pride which prevented them from being more talkative. They escaped as soon as the meal was over and Nan drew a sigh of relief. "They certainly aren't very good company," she remarked. "Jean seems the only one they will have anything to say to."