found something to eat down cellar, and I made a fire outside, an' roasted some corn and potatoes. That night I slep' in the barn. I wasn't afraid to be away from the house, for I knew it was safe enough, with that dog in it and Lord Edward outside. For three days, Sunday an' all, I was kep' out of this here house. I got along pretty well with the sleepin', and the eatin', but the drinkin' was the worst. I couldn't get no coffee or tea; but there was plenty of milk."
"Why didn't you get some man to come and attend to the dog?" I asked. "It was dreadful to live that way."
"Well, I didn't know no man that could do it," said Pomona. "The dog would 'a' been too much for old John, and besides, he was mad about the kerosene. Sunday afternoon. Captain Atkinson and Mrs. Atkinson, and their little girl in a push-waggon come here, and I told 'em you was gone away; but they says they would stop a minute, and could I give them a drink; an' I had nothing to give it to them but an old chicken bowl that I had washed out, for even the dipper was in the house, an' I told 'em everything was locked up, which was true enough, though they must 'a' thought you was a queer kind of people; but I wasn't a-goin' to say nothin' about the dog, fur, to tell the truth, I was ashamed to do it. So as soon as they'd gone, I went down into the cellar—and it's lucky that I had the key of the outside cellar door—and I got a piece of fat corn-beef and the meat-axe. I unlocked the kitchen door and went in, with the axe in one hand and the meat in the other. The dog might take his choice. I know'd he must be pretty nigh famished, for there was nothing that he could get to eat. As soon as I went in, he came runnin' to me; but I could see he was
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