“La!” said Phillis.
“Then, if I felt very strong, I used to go on yet further, and climb quite up to the trees at the top. I used to call that (to myself), the Wood of the Holy Spirit.”
“I wonder you wasn’t afraid,” said Phillis.
“No, ‘the voice of the Lord’ seemed walking in the garden, and took away all fear. Of what should I be afraid?”
“Tramps,” said Phillis.
“I never met any.”
“That was a wonder, then,” said Phillis, “for they mostly come right away over that hill, to and from the Fox’s Hole.”
“Stay a minute, Phillis, and I will explain to you why I never was afraid.”
“Dear me! and I’ve been awaiting and awaiting all this time,” cried Phillis, “to baste the chicken! I only stepped away from it for a moment, to give you your medicine!”
“Go, baste the chicken, then, Phillis. I beg your pardon for detaining you. I forgot how many things you have to do, and to think of. Go, Phillis, and baste the chicken.”