Joel dropped his doughnut to his plate as if it had been a hot
cake, and leaned over to fasten his black eyes on her big face.
"Well, pass the biscuits, do, then," said old Mr. Beebe, good-naturedly;
"let's get somethin' a-goin', Ma." So the little biscuits were
passed, but Joel did not take one; he still sat regarding Ab'm's mother.

"Ma, Ma," said Ab'm in a loud whisper, and twitching her elbow,
"this strange boy's a-lookin' at you all the time. Make him stop,
do."

At this Phronsie gave a little cry. "Don't let 'em hurt Joey,"
she gasped, turning to Mr. Beebe.

"There shan't nothin' hurt Joel, don't you be afraid," he
whispered back.

"Hoh, hoh!" cried Ab'm, pointing a big fat finger at her, that
might have been cleaner; "hear her now. An' she said her shoes
warn't never goin' to wear out. Hoh, hoh!"

"You let our Phronsie alone," screamed Joel, tearing his black
eyes off from Mrs. Marinthy's face to fasten them on her son.
"Ow! he pinched me," roared Ab'm, edging suddenly off to his
mother.

"I didn't," cried Joel, stoutly; "I did't touch him a single bit!
But he shan't scare Phronsie, or I'll pitch into him. Yes, sir-ree!"

"Joel!" cried Polly, in great distress, across the table.