She had a way of cutting them out, picking up some stitches and knitting in new heels. Ruth thought this a great achievement and wanted to learn how.
"'Twould bother your little brains out," said mother with a sort of amused kindliness.
"Are my brains very small?" she asked gravely.
"Not smaller than common. You're only a little girl. You'll grow."
"And my brains will grow too? Then I shall know a great deal more. Suppose one didn't have any brains?"
"Then he'd be an idjit. Most people have some, but they're not always put to a good use. Don't you worry, little one. You'll have brains enough."
My father, too, grew fond of her, and I think was pleased to have her ask questions. It always seemed to me the house took on a different aspect when she was there and the boys were more gentle.
Mr. Gaynor had planted his prairie strip with wheat, and was surprised at its astonishing fertility. Even then in a very dry time we practised a sort of irrigation, wide spaces being left where you could drive oxen and a hogshead of water through, letting it run out plentifully.
One of the next things that attracted attention was the raising of pigs. Freighting up the lake and to Buffalo continued about as before. Everything else was at a standstill. Not only was the Presidential election approaching but that for representatives. Stephen A. Douglas and John T. Stuart were competing candidates, and stumped all the sparse towns where there were any voters.
Davis was most complimentary to the new town, and even predicted "that the children of to-day would see a city of fifty thousand inhabitants before they died."