Chapter XXX. A Model Household

"When did you come?" asked Barton, steadying himself against a tree.

"Half an hour ago," answered Abner, for Herbert was gazing, with a repulsion he found it difficult to conceal, at Barton, whose flushed face and thick utterance indicated his condition very clearly.

"Who came with him?" continued Barton.

"You'd better ask marm. She attended to the business. It was a young man."

"Where is she?"

"Gone to the village to buy some sassiges for dinner."

"Good!" exclaimed Barton, in a tone of satisfaction. "I'll stay at home to dinner to-day. Did the man pay your mother any money?"

"I s'pose so, or she wouldn't be buyin' sassiges. Old Schickman won't trust us any more."

"The money should have been paid to me. I'll see about it when your marm comes back from the store."

"You'd spend it all for drink, dad," said Abner.

"How dare you speak so to your father, you ungrateful young dog!"

He essayed to reach Abner to strike him, but his dutiful son dodged easily, and his father, being unsteady on his legs, fell on the ground.

Abner laughed, but Herbert was too much shocked to share in his enjoyment.

"Come here and help me up, you Abner!" said his father.

"Not much, dad! If you hadn't tried to lick me you wouldn't have fallen!"

"Let me help you, sir!" said Herbert, conquering his instinctive disgust and approaching the fallen man.

"You're a gentleman!" murmured Barton, as he took the little boy's proffered hand and, after considerable ado, raised himself to a standing position. "You're a gentleman; I wish I had a boy like you."

Herbert could not join in the wish. He felt that a father like Joel Barton would be a great misfortune.

But just then Mrs. Barton entered the yard, marching with long strides like a man's.

"Here's marm!" announced Abner.

Barton steadied himself as he turned to look at his wife.

"I want to see you, Mrs. B.," he said. "When are you goin' to have dinner?"

"Never, if I depended on you to supply the vittles!" she answered, bluntly.

"Don't speak so before a stranger," said Barton, with a hiccough. "You hurt my feelin's."

"Your feelin's are tough, and so are mine by this time."

"What have you got there?"

"Some sassiges. Ef you want your share, you'll have to be on time. I shan't save you any."

"How much money did the man pay you, Mrs. B.?"

"That's my business!" retorted his wife, shortly.

"Mrs. B.," said her husband, straightening up, "I