"We can
eat parched corn if necessary. We have come from the city to rest,
and--"
"Rest," Jasper broke in, looking at the young fellow. "Why, he don't
look like he ever done anythin'. Never plowed a day in your life, did
you?"
"I must confess that I haven't," Tom replied.
"Thar, I knowed it." And then speaking to Mrs. Mayfield, he added: "All
right, mam, we'll do the best we kin fur you. Got the same names here
that you had down whar you come from?"
Tom laughed. His aunt reproved him with a look. "Why, of course. What
object would we have in changing them?"
"Don't ask me, mam. I never know what object nobody has--ain't my
business. Here, Kintchin," he called to the negro, "take them trunks
outen the wagin and then you may go to sleep ag'in."
Kintchin came round a corner of the house, rubbing his eyes. "Talkin'
ter me, suh?"
"You hearn me."
"Said suthin' erbout gwine ter sleep. I jest wanter tell you dat I ain't
slep' none fur er week, an' ef you 'sinuate at me--"
"Go on there. Now mam, ef you'll jest step in we'll do the best we kin.
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