Grandmother and Debby were rather lukewarm in their praise, Blue Bonnet thought, when the coyotes were brought to them on the veranda. Grandmother did not look in the least delighted when the two sharp-nosed, long-haired puppies were dropped into her lap; and finally Blue Bonnet gathered them both in her arms, declaring that nobody knew how to appreciate real Texas babies except herself.
"I'm going to keep them always," she said. "And Don and Solomon will just have to be reconciled."
"Have you asked your uncle if he is willing for you to keep two such pets?" her grandmother asked.
Blue Bonnet looked over to Uncle Cliff and laughed. "Asked Uncle Cliff? Why, Grandmother, I brought him up and he knows better than to oppose me at this late day!"
Uncle Cliff smiled back at her whimsically. "I hope I'm a credit to your training! Two new pets is quite a modest demand. I've known her to have a dozen or two at a time. One summer she had twin lambs, a magpie, a lizard, bunnies—"
"Don't forget the snakes," Blue Bonnet interrupted.
"Blue Bonnet Ashe—you never made pets of snakes!" gasped Debby.
"Three of them; beauties, too," Blue Bonnet replied.
"Weren't you afraid of them?" Sarah asked wonderingly.
"These were perfectly harmless; nobody should be afraid of such pretty little things. But the magpie had fits over them, so they had to go," Blue Bonnet remarked regretfully.