“What was that?” Paul inquired, still amused. “Pride,” was the half-laughing answer. “Do you know the awkwardest predicament on earth is to git whar you are as mad as old Harry, an' at the same time would rather die on the rack than let it be knowed? Well, that woman had me in that fix. She was playin' with me like a kitten with a dusty June-bug. She knowed what she was sayin' all right, an' she knowed, too, that I wouldn't slap 'er in the mouth--because I was too much of a lady. But if she didn't cut gaps in me an' rub brine in no woman ever clawed an' scratched another.” “Too bad!” Paul said, biting his lips. “I am wondering how it ended.” “You may well wonder,” Amanda went on. “I wanted to throw up the job, but was ashamed to let 'er see how mad I was. It was even wiles after we got to her house. She tuck me straight to the kitchen, an' with the air of a queen she p'inted to the nastiest lot o' pots an' pans you ever laid eyes on, an' said she reckoned I'd have to give 'em a good scrubbin' fust, as they was caked with grease. Then she told me what she wanted for supper. Tobe liked string-beans, an' none 'had been fetched from the patch, an' I'd have plenty o' time to pick 'em, an' so on, an' so on. I saw I was in a hole an' tried to make the best of it. But when I come to put the supper on the table that she had told her little girl to set the plates on I seed thar was just places fixed for the family. You see, she thought I'd wait till that triflin' gang was through an' set down to scraps. Thar was one other thing Carrie Williams expected to happen, but it didn't take place.” “She expected you to put poison in the food?” Paul jested. “She expected me to _wait_ on 'em--to fetch the grub from the stove to the table an' stick it under their noses, but I didn't. I took my seat on the kitchen door-step. I heard 'er callin', but I was deef as a post. One of the gals come an' told me her ma said they wanted a hot pone o' bread, an' I told 'er it was in the stove, an' if she didn't hurry it would burn--that I smelt it already. When supper was over Carrie come an' told me they was finished. She said she was sorry all the preserves was ate up, but that the children was greedy an' hard to control when sweet things was in sight. I told her I didn't feel like eatin'--that I never did when I worked over my own cookin', an' I didn't touch a bite. I set in to washin' the dishes an' she hung about, still talkin'. Her main theme was the old times an' how many of our crowd of girls had been unable to keep pace an' float with her, an' the few that was left on top. Then she mentioned you.” “Me! I thought I'd get my share,” Paul smiled.