Her father laughed, and gave her the cakes, and while she was enjoying them, she cried to Willie:
"I'm learning to spell and read, Mr. Willie."
"Is you?" answered Willie, "why for?" and in his earnest attention to this announcement, he forgot the way to his mouth again, and landed a spoonful of hominy on the end of his nose.
Lillie laughed, and polished his nose with her napkin; and rubbed it so hard, that it made Willie wink, and said:
"Because people must learn to read and spell, and you must learn too—I'm going to teach you; come, spell 'cat.'"
"But I tant," said Willie.
"But you must," said Lillie, "you must spell 'cat,' and you must learn to read the Bible; and you and I will read the Bible every single morning, and a great many times besides."
"Come, begin: spell 'cat.'"
Willie looked gravely down, with very large eyes, at the cat, as if he thought that she might tell him; then lifted his mug, on which was elegantly painted, with about twenty-seven flourishes, the words, "For Willie," to his lips, and took a long drink of milk, staring over the top of it at the cat the whole time, but the blinking old tabby only dozed away with one eye opened, and slapped her tail on the carpet as if to say, "you'll find no spell in me," so Willie put his mug down, and drawing a long breath, lisped again, "But I tant."
"Well," said Lillie, a little provoked, "if you can't spell 'cat,' spell 'kitten:' that's littler."