"Crom will have dinner ready soon, though as he and Tony weren't notified that there would be a wedding-party here, I can't promise the feast I'd like to.

Still, there's a bottle or two good enough to drink even _their_ happiness in, Homer.

Just send your chauffeur down to the town, and come in." (Good one on Weaver, that--and, the best part of it was, he heard it.) King hesitated while I could count ten--if I I counted fast enough--and came in, following us all back through the vestibule.

Inside, he looked me over and drew his hand down over his mouth; I think to hide a smile.
"Young man, yuh seem born to leave a path uh destruction behind yuh," he said.

"There's a lot uh fixing to be done on that gate--and I don't reckon I ever _will_ find the padlock again." His eyes met the keen, steady look of dad, stopped there, wavered, softened to friendliness.