The girl looked down from her five feet nine inches of height with her easy, comfortable smile.
“Why? Because of my altitude?” she asked.
“'And you will be sure to scald your fingers and get the worst of it,'” Puddy went on relentlessly.
This struck Evelyn's fancy and she exclaimed:
“Girls, I can just see Nannie's husband sitting in the doorway of their cabin blowing his fingers and wincing.”
“Can you?” said a voice, and the girls started as they saw Nannie standing between the curtains of the folding doors.
Sometimes she resembled an elf in her weird beauty; just now she looked more like an imp.
Something disagreeable might have ensued, for Nannie's temper was uncertain and undisciplined, but Prudence said in a presidential tone:
“Young ladies, it is for you to decide how you will be served up in future. Will some one please make a motion?”
“Oh, let's decide how each other will be served,” said Hilda. “You know at church nobody applies any of the sermon to himself, but fits it all on to his neighbors.”