The child's face brightened as she looked at the brown horse, stolidly
cropping his clover. The tucked-in corners of her mouth looked as if a
smile were trying to come out, but was not allowed.

"And what was you doin' here all by your lonesome?" asked Calvin.

"I was playin' s'pose," said the child soberly.

"I want to know!" said Calvin. "How do you play it?"

The child inspected him critically for a moment; then the smile fairly
broke loose, and twinkled all over her face.

"I'll show you!" she said; and with a pretty gesture she patted the dry
grass beside her. Calvin was down in an instant, his long legs curled up
in some mysterious way so that they showed as little as might be.

"Up anchor!" he said. "Yo heave ho, and off we go, to the land of
Spose-y-oh!"

The child bubbled into a laugh.

"I guess you're funny!" she said.

"I guess I am!" said Calvin Parks. "Comical Cal--well now, how long is
it since I heard that?"

"Comical Cal,
Scairt of a gal!"

"There was a little gal jest about your age used to say that whenever I
passed her house."

"Was you?" inquired the child.

"Was I what? scairt? yes, I was! scairt out of my boots, if I'd had
any."

"Why was you?"

"Why was Silas's gray hoss gray? This ain't playin' s'pose, little un.
S'pose you start in!"

"Why," said the child; "well--you see--you just s'pose, you know. You
can s'pose about anything; I do it at home, and sometimes--only don't
tell--I s'pose in meetin', if I had a bunnet like--but you never saw
her, I s'pose. But most of all I like to s'pose about this place,
because there isn't anything, so you can have anything you like. See?"

"_I_ see!" said Calvin.

"There used to be a house here!" the child went on. "There truly did."

"You don't say!" said Calvin.

"That was the cellar of it;" she nodded toward the yawning gulf, full of
briars and blackened brick and timbers. "The house was burned up--no, I
mean down--no, I mean _all_ burned, both ways, long ago; ever 'n' ever
'n' ever so long."

"Ever 'n' ever 'n' ever so long!" repeated Calvin.

"This was the gardin. This is a rose-bush I'm settin' under. It has
white roses in summer, white with pinky in the middle."

"You bet it has! and the next one has red damask, big as a piny, and
sweet--there!"

The child stared. "How did you know?" she asked.

"I'm jest learnin' the game," said Calvin. "Clap on sail, little un!"

"But it's funny, because you s'posed right! Wel