"Of course he does." There was a brief pause, and then the catechism continued.
"How old be you?"
"Guess?"
"I don't know. You've got on long dresses and yer tall, but yer hair's shorter'n mine."
"Yes, I've been very ill and my hair all came out. It used to be straight as yours. I went to bed with my long hair braided smoothly, and got up with these new little kinks."
"I wish I knew where I could ketch that kind o' sickness," returned Minty, regarding the bright auburn rings enviously, "but don't tell Thinkright I said so," she added, with an afterthought. "He thinks bein' sick's as wrong as lyin'."
"My cousin Thinkright has some very odd ideas," returned Sylvia.
"There's Daisy a-mooin'," exclaimed Minty, her face lighting. "She hears us talkin'."
"Well, don't forget to tell her how charming I am, will you? It gives me the shivers to think I'm walking straight up to a pair of horns and not a fence in sight."
"She won't do nawthin';" the child smiled at the comical grimace her companion made, and a turn in the path revealed a white cow at the end of her tether looking eagerly toward them. A clump of evergreens rose beyond her.