"Well, you've nothing else to do now, so listen to this meadow lark, will you? Though I must say—"
"I'd like to, but I can't. There are things I've got to do."
"There are not! Not a single thing but be a nice boy and get well. And to get well you must—"
"A lot you know about it—you, with nothing to worry you, any more than a meadow lark. Not as much, because they do have to rustle their own worms and watch out for hawks and things, and you—"
"I suppose you would imply that I have about as much brains as a meadow lark, perhaps!" Mary V rose valiantly to the argument. If Johnny would rather quarrel than talk about things that didn't interest either of them a bit, why, a quarrel he should have.
But Johnny would not quarrel. He made no reply whatever to the tentative charge. When Mary V stopped scolding, she became aware that Johnny had not heard a word of what she had said.
"How many horses did your dad figure had been stolen? I mean, besides the ones he got back."
"Why—er—you'll have to ask dad. I don't see what that can have to do with meadow larks' brains."
"It hasn't a thing to do with brains. I was merely wondering."
"Well," Mary V retorted flippantly, "I believe the wondering is very good to-day. Help yourself, Johnny."