John Habberton

“ If she were truly womanly and conscientiously she could not take offence: my long and varied knowledge of child-nature ought to be to her sufficient excuse for my interest in her prospective daughter.
Evidently little Alice had forgotten the personal remark made at the "Smiff" farm, for at each turn of the road she announced the distance which still separated us from the place where cider and molasses-cake were always offered to visitors, and when finally we reached the house she took me in so suddenly that I had not time to protest against such intrusion. ”

“ I had been taught that a ravenous appetite was bad for any one, and my settled convictions were not be disturbed by the hunger of an unreasoning child: so I said,—
"I hope, dear, you will grow to be a strong, good woman and be very useful in the world; but you can't do it by thinking only of eating."
"Well, anyway, my fahver says it takes food to make brains, an' de reason women ain't so smart as men is dat dey don't eat 'nough." ”

“ I guess your gran'ma ain't very puttikular about de kind of folks you get 'quainted wiff."
I attempted to annihilate the child with an indignant glance, but did not succeed, for she looked at me curiously and repeated her question; finally I meekly answered,—
"I don't know any such men, dear, but often I hear men talking in the cars in the city, of where they've been in the country, and what they've done, and unless they've killed something or made fun of somebody they don't seem to have enjoyed themselves." ”

“ I interrupted by taking the basket and making a mid-morning lunch on sandwiches. I was not hungry, but masculine criticisms of women always disturbed my mental equilibrium and made me angry. I felt like consuming something: the remaining luncheon could endure it with least annoyance to any one.
"You's feedin' your brains, ain't you?" said the child, opening her eyes wonderingly. "I's glad you ain't dat kind my fahver told about."
Suddenly I threw away a sandwich I had in my hands, and closed the lid of the basket with a sharp snap. ”

“ Women not as smart as men! All my suspicions of the father of this child came back to me with cumulative force. It was bad enough that any man should have such thoughts; it was simply shameful that he should have put them into the mind of a child.
"My fahver takes me big walks," continued little Alice, "so I'll get a good appetite, an' know my own mind so I won't lose it when I see it, and fink about somefin' else. He says he once knowed a lady dat would have been an angel if she'd only ate 'nough to know her own mind. ”

“ How's I goin' to grow if I don't eat a lot? An' if I don't grow, how's I goin' to be a woman? An' if I don't get to be a woman, how's I ever goin' to be any good to anybody, 'xcept gran'ma and my fahver, an' maybe Mistress Drusilla an' Miss Dorcas? ”

“ About something to drink: milk soon spoils, in this weather, if it's carried long, but every living body on every road knows Alice, so you can get a glass of milk anywhere, and if you stop at any house for a minute the folks will be sure to ask you to take a cup of tea."
Meanwhile, Mistress Drusilla and the basket, escorted by little Alice, came from the kitchen. The instant the old woman placed the basket on a table in the hall the child peered into it and asked,—
"Is you sure you's got enough? Last time I went on a 'scursion wiff a boarder she got so hungry dat I was 'most starved." ”

“ You know how not to feel dat way, don't you?"
"I fear I don't."
"Why, you just make yourself heavier, den you don't feel so light. Don't you see?"
"But how? Are we to load ourselves with stones, as I am told travellers sometimes do on windy mountain-sides?"
"Goodness! no," said the child, lifting the lid of the basket. "All you have to do is to eat somefin',—all you can, an' as soon as you can. I wonder if dese eggs is hard-boiled?" (Here she stooped and cracked one against a stone.) "Yes, dey are. Gran'ma says hard-boiled eggs is heavy on one's stomach. ”

“ Sometimes dere's men dat paints pictures comes out to spend Sunday wiff him, an' he shows 'em just where to find fings to make pictures out of."
"Your father must be very different from other men," I ventured to say.
"Well, I 'most always goes wiff 'em on 'scursions, an' dey don't do none of dem horrid fings you said. Guess you ain't seen only one kind of men: my fahver says dere's lots of kinds." ”

“ It always seems an awful long time when anybody stands as still as if dey was dead. When I does anyfin' naughty an' my fahver stands an' looks at me an' just keeps still, it 'pears like a hundred hours. But you isn't, is you?"
"I'm not what?"
"You isn't like uvver city folks, I mean. Here you's been here lots of days, an' you ain't ever been on any 'scursions. ”

“ I don't ever get tired, dough, unless we forget to take fings to eat wiff us. Mistress Drusilla fixes awful nice lunch-baskets to carry on 'scursions, if she knows I'm goin' along; I know she does, 'cause she done it for some ladies dat come here last year. I'll tell her about it, soon as I give her dis letter; den we can start. ”