"Why, so they are not; the blamed fools have made a mistake. But you'll have to take it, Cap."
"No, uncle; keep it for the present," said Capitola, who was too honest to take a gift that she felt she did not deserve, and yet too proud to confess as much.
Peace was proclaimed--for the present.
Alas! 'twas but of short continuance. During these two days of coolness and enforced quietude Old Hurricane had gathered a store of bad humors that required expenditure.
So the very next day something went wrong upon the farm, and Old Hurricane came storming home, driving his overseer, poor, old, meek Billy Ezy, and his man Wool before him.
Bill Ezy was whimpering; Wool was sobbing aloud; Old Hurricane was roaring at them both as he drove them on before him, swearing that Ezy should go and find himself a new home and Wool should go and seek another master.
And for this cause Old Hurricane was driving them on to his study, that he might pay the overseer his last quarter's salary and give the servant a written order to find a master.
He raged past Capitola in the hall, and, meeting Mrs. Condiment at the study door, ordered her to bring in her account book directly, for that he would not be imposed upon any longer, but meant to drive all the lazy, idle, dishonest eye-servants and time-servers from the house and land!
"What's the matter now?" said Capitola, meeting her.
"Oh, child, he's in his terrible tantrums again! He gets into these ways every once in a while, when a young calf perishes, or a sheep is stolen, or anything goes amiss, and then he abuses us all for a pack of loiterers, sluggards and thieves, and pays us off and orders us off. We don't go, of course, because we know he doesn't mean it; still, it is very trying to be talked to so. Oh, I should go, but Lord, child, he's a bear, but we love him."
Just as she spoke the study door opened and Bill Ezy came out sobbing, and Wool lifting up his voice and fairly roaring.
Mrs. Condiment stepped out of the parlor door.
"What's the matter, you blockhead?" she asked of Wool.
"Oh! boo-hoo-woo! Ole marse been and done and gone and guv me a line to find an--an--another--boo-hoo-woo!" sobbed Wool, ready to break his heart.
"Give you a line to find another boo-hoo-woo! I wouldn't do it, if I were you, Wool," said Capitola.
"Give me the paper, Wool," said Mrs. Condiment, taking the "permit" and tearing it up, and adding: "There, now, you go home to your quarter, and keep out of your old master's sight until he gets over his anger, and then you know very well that it will be all right. There, go along with you."