“That’s right, Anne,” he said; “Boston houses may do for town people, but we sailor-folk like our own best.”
“Yes, indeed!” replied Anne, “and I do not believe a beach-plum grows on their shore. And nothing I tasted there was so good as Aunt Martha’s meal bread.”
The next morning Anne started for school, wearing the new shoes and scarlet stockings and the little plaid shawl. The children were all anxious to hear about what she saw in Boston, and she told them of the soldiers on the Common, and of the shops, and of the houses made of brick and stone, and she showed Amanda how to make the wonderful curtsey. But Elder Haven soon called them to take their seats, and it was not until the noon recess that she found a chance to speak alone with Amanda.
The two little girls sat down on the front door-step of Elder Haven’s house, and Anne told of the wonderful sail to Boston, and had just begun to describe Rose Freeman when the teacher’s voice was heard calling them in.
As soon as school closed for the day, Amanda said that she could walk home with Anne and see the new cape and hat, and hear more about Rose Freeman.
“Would you like better to live in Boston than here?” asked Amanda, as they walked along.
Anne looked at her in surprise.
“Why, Amanda!” she said; “of course I wouldn’t. It is not seemly there to go out-of-doors without a hat; and Rose Freeman said that she had never been barefooted in her life. She has fine white stockings knit of cotton yarn for summer, and low shiny shoes that she called ‘slippers.’”
“’Twould be hard to wear shoes all the year,” agreed Amanda, looking down at her own stout leather shoes, “but I like them well now.”
“I brought you a present from Boston,” said Anne just as they reached the Stoddards’ door. “Rose Freeman gave it to me, and I saved it for you.”