"Miss Buckminster, I made a mistake. 'Tis Indian and not wheat meal that father sent you."
"Indian! I should like to know what he sent Indian for!"
This curt reply made a good deal of sport among the neighbors.
"I don't believe the Lord will send her anything again very soon," said Squire Dresser.
"The old proverb is, 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth;' but she presumes to find fault with the gifts of the Lord, tells what he should send and what not."
Dr. Ryan, who dearly loved good living, tempted by her unrivalled skill as a cook, and confiding in his good temper and the soundness of his nerves, once employed Nelly to keep house for him. She was possessed of a very vivid imagination, and in the habit of cautioning people against doing things they never entertained the thought of doing.
It was cold, sharp weather, and the doctor had a small dog that was very fond of stretching out on the hearth before the andirons. One day the doctor came in, chilled from a long ride and stood warming himself; the dog lay stretched at full length between him and the fire.
"There! you'll kick that dog into the fire—I know you will!" screamed Nelly.
"So I will, then," said the doctor, and kicked him under the forestick.