"Don't never go to town."
"But isn't there anything you would like? Your mother could buy it for you, you know."
Daniella looked at the red knitted jacket which Mary Lee wore. "I like that," she said, nodding her head toward it.
"Then you shall have one just like it," said Polly, heartily. "I will go right to work and knit it myself. Wouldn't you like a pair of shoes for winter? and can you read?"
"Maw kin. I kain't. I'd like the shoes when it snows, but I hates to put 'em on befo' that."
"Then you shall have a pair all ready for the first snow," Polly told her.
"I wish you would come to my home some day. Will you, if we come for you?" asked Mary Lee, with a missionary spirit of enlarging the girl's ideas.
"I'd be skeered," said Daniella.
"Oh, no, you wouldn't. I have three sisters and we don't live right in the town; it's like country. We have chickens and things."
"I've got some chickens," returned Daniella, "an' I've got a pig, too. Maw wouldn't let me go to town, I reckon, 'cause I ain't got clothes like you-uns. She ain't no time to make 'em. She too busy nussin' grandad. He right foolish-lak now, jest lak a baby."