"Well, I've come to have a little talk."
Cinthie made a joyful noise that sounded like corn-cookoo, and gave another prance.
Poppy sat on the edge of the bed and sipped her coffee, tendering to Cinthie an occasional spoonful, which was supped up rapturously.
"Who've you got there with you?"
"Two my chil'ren."
"Which ones?"
"Daisy-Buttercup 'n Oscar"
"Oh! have they said their prayers yet?"
A pause, then:
"I didn't tell them to say prairses to-night."