"And you're only eight—pretty much the same."
This was too insulting—even from Chris.
"Why, Chris!"—getting crimson. "Oh, Chris, how can you? Why, I'm eight and a half, and a whole month besides. And I can read, and I can hem pocket-handkerchiefs, and I can spell and do lots of sums. And I know history. And she's only a tiny wee mite!"
Then Hecla reminded him that even he was only ten and a half, just two years older than herself—which he always treated as a huge difference—and she tried to reason out the fact that he was less older than herself than she was older than Ivy. She saw the comparison in her mind, but only managed to bring it out confusedly.
And Chris's sole comment was, "Bosh!"
Then the frog made up his mind what to do, and went off in a series of long leaps. Chris rushed after him, and Hecla would have done the same but for Aunt Anne's voice calling.
So she had to go home, feeling rather flat, for her joy in Ivy's coming had met with small sympathy from her chum.
[CHAPTER VI]
Buttons and Button-holes
THREE weeks passed, and little Ivy came. Think how happy Hecla was. She felt it to be a thousand million times better than having a present of the biggest doll ever made—even a doll which could open and shut its eyes, and would make a noise when pinched about the waist.