At that moment Cash pushed back the blankets that had been
banked to his ears. Simultaneously, Bud swung his feet to the
cold floor with a thump designed solely to inform Cash that Bud
was getting up. Cash turned over with his back to the room and
pulled up the blankets. Bud grinned maliciously and dressed as
deliberately as the cold of the cabin would let him. To be sure,
there was the disadvantage of having to start his own fire, but
that disagreeable task was offset by the pleasure he would get in
messing around as long as he could, cooking his breakfast. He
even thought of frying potatoes and onions after he cooked his
bacon. Potatoes and onions fried together have a lovely tendency
to stick to the frying pan, especially if there is not too much
grease, and if they are fried very slowly. Cash would have to do
some washing and scraping, when it came his turn to cook. Bud
knew just about how mad that would make Cash, and he dwelt upon
the prospect relishfully.
Bud never wanted potatoes for his breakfast. Coffee, bacon, and
hotcakes suited him perfectly. But just for meanness, because he
felt mean and he wanted to act mean, he sliced the potatoes and
the onions into the frying pan, and, to make his work
artistically complete, he let them burn and stick to the pan,--
after he had his bacon and hotcakes fried, of course!
He sat down and began to eat.
Pages:
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162