The old man was filled with a desire to negotiate this statement at
once, but he felt the necessity of carrying off the event without an
appearance of haste. "Yes, seh; thank 'e, seh; thank 'e, Mist'
Wash'ton. I raikon I ramble home pressenly." He waited an interval,
and then dubiously said, "Good-evenin', Mist' Wash'ton."
"Good-evenin', deacon. Don' come foolin' roun' _feelin'_ no mellums,
and I say troof. Good-evenin', deacon."
Alek took off his hat and made three profound bows. "Thank 'e, seh.
Thank 'e, seh. Thank 'e, seh."
Peter underwent another severe spasm, but the old man walked off
towards his home with a humble and contrite heart.