I'll stand whack with you,
however, fur the madges I give you and fur my stalling ken."
"_Quedito!_" lisped Van Dorn; "we never leave your interests out,
son-in-law. How is Aunt Patty?"
"She's made a punch fur the population, an' calls fur young Levin thar
to lush with her."
"I'll take mine along," Levin cried, "an' drink it in the chill o' the
night."
"No," commanded the voice of Patty Cannon; "it's a-waitin' fur you, son:
a good stiff bowl of apple and sugar. Him as misses his drinks yer we
sets no account on."
As Van Dorn and Levin pushed through the motley crowd on the little
porch into the bar, where Mrs. Cannon administered, she set before them
two fiery bowls, and cried:
"Come in yer, Colonel McLane, an' jine my nug an' my young cousin
Levin."
"No, Patty," answered a voice from the next room within; "I've drunk my
share. There's nothing like a conservative course."
As Patty put her head into this inner room, Levin Dennis, seeing a
window open at his elbow, threw the whole of his liquor over his
shoulder into the yard and smacked his lips heartily, saying,
"Good!"
"Ha!" exclaimed Van Dorn, evidently noticing Levin's deceit; "smart
people are around us, Patty. Beware!"
He took from his pocket the fateful letter and glanced at its
endorsement, and, as he did so, Levin heard an exclamation in the yard
from a man who had received the whole of the apple brandy and sugar in
his face, and was furious; but as soon as he seemed to recognize the
thrower he muttered, apologetically:
"Hokey-pokey! By smoke! and Pangymonum, too!"
When Levin looked at Van Dorn again, the blush was on his face, but the
letter had disappeared.
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