f going where Milo
Barrus was going, then it might not be so bad.

Nancy, who had now discarded the good name of Lillian May for simple
Alice, disapproved heartily of being born again; unless, indeed, one could
be born a boy the second time. She was only too eager for the day when
she need not submit to having her hair brushed and combed so long every
morning of her life. Not for the world would she go through it again and
have to begin French all over, even at "_J'ai, tu as, il a_." Yet, if it
were certain she could be a boy--

He was too considerate to tell her that this was as good as
impossible--that she quite lacked the qualities necessary for that.
Instead, he reassured her with the chivalrous fiction that he, at least,
would like her as well as if she _were_ a boy. And, indeed, as a girl, she
was not wholly unsatisfactory. True, she played "school" (of all things!)
in preference to "wild animals," practised scales on the piano an hour
every day, wore a sun-hat frequently--spite of which she was
freckled--wore shoes and stockings on the hottest days, when one's feet
are so hungry for the cool, springy turf, and performed other acts
repugnant to a soul that has brought itself erect. But she was fresh and
dainty to look at, like an opened morning glory, with pretty frocks that
the French lady whose name was Madmasel made her wear every day, and her
eyes were much like certain flowers in the bed under the bay-window, with
very long, black lashes that got all stuck together when she cried; and
she made superb capital letters, far better than the little boy's, though
she was a year younger.

Also, which was perhaps her chief charm, she could be made to believe that
only he could protect her from the Gratcher, a monstrous thing, half
beast, half human, which was often seen back of the house; sometimes
flitting through the grape-arbour, sometimes coming out of the dark
cellar, sometimes peering around corners. It was a thing that went on
enormous crutches, yet could always catch you if it saw you by daylight
out of its right eye, its left being serviceable only at night, when, if
you were wise, you kept in the house. Once the Gratcher saw you with its
right eye the crutches swung toward you and you were caught: it picked you
up and began to look you all over, with the eyes in the ends of its
fingers. This tickled you so that you went crazy in a minute.

Nancy feared the Gratcher, and she became supremely lovely to the