ould look after Pony; and all the time Pony would be
gritting his teeth, he was so mad.

Once, when Pony stayed in swimming all day with a crowd of fellows, she
did about the worst thing she ever did; she came down to the river-bank
and stood there, and called to the boys, to find out if Pony was with
them; and they all had to get into the water up to their necks before they
could bear to answer her, they were so ashamed; and Pony had to put on his
clothes and go home with her. He could see that she had been crying, and
that made him a little sorry, but not so very; and the most that he was
afraid of was that she would tell his father. But if she did he never knew
it, and that night she came to him after he went to bed, and begged him
so not to stay in swimming the whole day any more, and told him how
frightened she had been, that he had to promise; and then that made him
feel worse than ever, for he did not see how he could break his promise.

She was not exactly a bad mother, and she was not exactly a good mother.
If she had been really a good mother she would have let him do whatever he
wanted, and never made any trouble, and if she had been a bad mother she
would not have let him do anything; and then he could have done it without
her letting him. In some ways she was good enough; she would let him take
out things to the boys in the back yard from the table, and she put
apple-butter or molasses on when it was hot biscuit that he took out. Once
she let him have a birthday party, and had cake and candy-pulling and
lemonade, and nobody but boys, because he said that boys hated girls;
even his own sisters did not come. Sometimes she would give him money for
ice-cream, and if she could have got over being particular about his going
in swimming before he could swim, and pistols and powder and such things,
she would have done very well.

She was first-rate when he was sick, and nobody could take care of
him like her, cooling his pillow and making the bed easy, and keeping
everybody quiet; and when he began to get well she would cook things that
tasted better than anything you ever knew: stewed chicken, and toast with
gravy on, and things like that. Even when he was well, and just lonesome,
she would sit by his bed if he asked her, till he went to sleep, or got
quieted down; and if he was trying to make anything she would help him
all she could, but if it was something that you had to use a knife with
she was not much help