Page:Salem - a tale of the seventeenth century (IA taleseventeenth00derbrich).pdf/185

 *ther's—only the colonel and his father both like it better made of green tea; that is the only change I have made. But won't you stay and dine with us, brother?"

"I don't know—perhaps so. What have you for dinner? Don't put me off with pudding and beans again."

"No, no!" said the hostess, laughing. "I remember that; but it is not baked-bean day to-day—it is Saturday."

"Oh, true. Then, of course, I am to conclude it is to be salt-fish, beef-steak, and apple-pie."

"Of course it is—and will you stay?"

"Yes, thank you, I think so; for my wife is in Boston at her mother's. Here, you little ones," he said, as two of his sister's children came up from the garden and stood at the bottom of the steps looking at him, "run and see if you can find Jim or Sambo, or somebody or other to pull off my boots, and bring me slippers."

When this accommodation had been furnished him, he held out his hand affably to the two little ones, who had returned, and who now stood, hand in hand, at the foot of