"Who learned you that?" he asked.
"Seems to coom like," she answered. "I doos it most days in general."
"She likes that," said Ernie wisely, watching the squirming rogue.
"Doosn't do her no harm anyways," answered the mother.
She put the little naked thing to sprawl and crawl and scramble on the grass beside her.
"Sun and wind and water," she said. "Give a child them three; and she wun't need for no'hun else—only food. That's what Mr. Trupp says. And I reck'n he says right."
Standing up, the water still covering her feet, she dropped her skirt.
He gave her his hand to help her on to the bank.
"The sun's burnt you," he remarked.
"Aye," she answered. "I been in the hay these three weeks past. We've carried all now, only Pook's Pasture."