"They hadn't a place ter go," said he, "and I reckoned 'twould give 'em
time ter ketch breath, an' turn around. I told 'em livin' in Kaintuck
was kinder rough."

"Mercy!" said Polly Ann, "ter think that they was use' ter silver spoons,
and linen, and niggers ter wait on 'em. Tom, ye must shoot a turkey, and
I'll do my best to give 'em a good supper." Tom rose obediently, and
seized his coonskin hat. She stopped him with a word.

"Tom."

"Ay?"

"Mayhap--mayhap Davy would know 'em. He's been to Charlestown with the
gentry there."

"Mayhap," agreed Tom. "Pore little deevil," said he, "he's hed a hard
time."

"He'll be right again soon," said Polly Ann. "He's been sleepin' that
way, off and on, fer a week." Her voice faltered into a note of
tenderness as her eyes rested on me.

"I reckon we owe Davy a heap, Polly Ann," said he.

I was about to interrupt, but Polly Ann's next remark arrested me.

"Tom," said she, "he oughter be eddicated."

"Eddicated!" exclaimed Tom, with a kind of dismay.