"
Flyaway thrust another finger in her mouth, and pressed her eyelids
slowly together. Abner did not understand this, but it meant that he
had not treated her with proper respect.
"Here, Ruth," said he, in a low tone, "hand me one of your plum tarts;
that'll fetch her.--Come here, my pretty one, and see what's inside of
this little pie."
Flyaway was very hungry. She took a step forward, and held her hand
out, though rather timidly.
"But she mustn't eat it without asking her mamma," said Ruth.
"Yes; O, yes," cried Miss Flyaway, opening her little mouth for the
first time, and shutting it again over a big bite of tart; "I want to
eat it and _s'prise_ my mamma."
Abner laughed in his hearty fashion. "Some of the old mischief left
there yet," said he, catching Flyaway and tossing her to the ceiling.
"Have you come here this summer to keep the whole house in commotion?
Remember the Charlie boy--don't you--that had the meal-bags tied to
his feet?"
"Did he? What for?"
Flyaway had not the least recollection of Charlie; but Horace had
talked to her about him, and she said, after a moment's thought,--
"Yes, he washed the pig.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55