se.

While Annie was making an omelet Benny came out into the kitchen and
stood regarding her, hands in pockets, making, as usual, one set of
muscles rest upon another. His face was full of the utmost good nature,
but it also convicted him of too much sloth to obey its commands.

"Say, Annie, what on earth makes them all pick on you so?" he observed.

"Hush, Benny! They don't mean to. They don't know it."

"But say, Annie, you must know that they tell whoppers. You DID sweep
the kitchen."

"Hush, Benny! Imogen really thinks she swept it."

"Imogen always thinks she has done everything she ought to do, whether
she has done it or not," said Benny, with unusual astuteness. "Why don't
you up and tell her she lies, Annie?"

"She doesn't really lie," said Annie.

"She does lie, even if she doesn't know it," said Benny; "and what is
more, she ought to be made to know it. Say, Annie, it strikes me that
you are doing the same by the girls that they accuse you of doing by me.
Aren't you encouraging them in evil ways?"

Annie started, and turned and stared at him.

Benny nodded. "I can't see any difference," he said. "There isn't a day
but one of the girls thinks she has done something you have done, or
hasn't done something you ought to have done, and they blame you all the
time, when you don't deserve it, and you let them, and they don't know
it, and I don't think myself that they know they tell whoppers; but they
ought to know. Strikes me you are just spoiling the whole lot, father
thrown in, Annie. You are a dear, just as they say, but you are too much
of a dear to be good for them."

Annie stared.

"You are letting that omelet burn," said Benny. "Say, Annie, I will go
out and turn that hay in the morning. I know I don't amount to much, but
I ain't a girl, anyhow, and I haven't got a cross-eyed soul. That's
what ails a lot of girls. They mean all right, but their souls have been
cross-eyed ever since they came into the world, and it's just such
girls as you who ought to get them straightened out. You know what has
happened to-day. Well, here's what happened yesterday. I don't tell
tales, but you ought to know this, for I believe Tom Reed has his eye
on you, in spite of Imogen's being such a beauty, and Susan's having
manners like silk, and Eliza's giving everybody the impression that she
is too good for this earth, and Jane's trying to make everybody think
she is a sweet martyr, without a thought for mortal man,