Page:On Our Selection.djvu/220

206 knife and fork and clapping his hands over his mouth.

"Ooh!"

We looked at him. "Got what?" Dad asked, a gleam of satisfaction appearing in his eyes.

"The toothache!—the dd toothache! . . . Oh-h!"

"Ha! ha! Hoo! hoo! hoo!" Dad roared. In fact, we all roared—all but the pressman. "Oh-h!" he said, and went to the fire. Dad laughed some more.

We ate on. The pressman continued to moan.

Dad turned on his seat. "What paper, mister, do you say you come from?"

"Oh-h! . . . Oh-h, Lord!"

"Well, let me see; I'll have in altogether, I daresay, this year, about thirty-five acres of wheat—I suppose as good a wheat"

"Damn the wheat ... Ooh!"

"Eh!" said Dad, "why, I never thought toothache was thet bad! You reminds me of this old cow we be eatin'. She moaned just like thet all the time she were layin' in the gully, afore I knocked 'er on the head."

Canty, the storekeeper, looked up quickly, and the pressman looked round slowly—both at Dad.

"Here," continued Dad—"let's have a look at yer tooth, old man!"

The pressman rose. His face was flushed and