n my pillow. At first I could think of nothing else to
wish for; but one day I said,--
"I wish I was a pussy-cat, mamma, so I could have _four_ yubber
boots!"
Brother Ned and I were great friends. Partly to keep his eye on me,
and partly because he enjoyed my conversation, he would say in the
cool spring days, "Come, Maggie, dear, bring your cloak, and I'll wrap
you up all so warm, so you can sit out on the woodpile while I chop my
stint."
I think he must have been a little fellow to chop wood. After I got
there, and was having a good time, he often remarked, in tones as
cutting as the edge of his hatchet,--
"If I had a brother, Miss Maggie, I shouldn't take pains to wrap up a
speck of a girl like you for company."
"Well, if had a little sister, I wouldn't _be_ yapped up for comp'ny,"
retorted I, rubbing my small, red nose; "I'd be a-yockin' her cradle."
Ned laughed at that; for it was just what he expected me to say. We
had one bond of sympathy; he longed for a little brother, and I longed
for a little sister. He liked to hear me talk grandly about "my new
baby-girlie, Rosy Posy Parlin. She wouldn't bl'ong to him any 'tall.
She'd be mine clear through."
He led me on to snap out little sharp speeches, which he always
laughed at; and I suspect that was one thing that made me so pert. I
looked up to him as a superior being, except when I was angry with
him, which was about half the time. I told Ruphelle Allen he was a
"bad, naughty boy;" but when she said, "Yes, I think so, too," I
instantly cried out, "Well, I guess he's gooder 'n _your_ brother;
so!"
Ruphelle was my bosom friend. We had shaken rattles together before we
were big enough to shake hands. She had beautiful brown eyes, and
straight, brown hair; while, as for me, my eyes were gray, and my
kinky hair the color of tow.
Sister 'Ria called Ruphelle "a nice little girl;" while, owing to the
way my hair had of running wild, and the way my frocks had of tearing,
she didn't mind saying I was "a real romp," and looked half the time
like "an up-and-down fright."
As I always believed exactly what people said, and couldn't
understand jokes, I was rather unhappy about this; but concluded I had
been made for a vexation, like flies and mosquitos, and so wasn't to
blame.
Ruphelle lived on a hill, in the handsomest house in Willowbrook, with
a "cupalo" on top, where you could look off and see the whole town,
with the blue river running right through
|