But Molly waxed indignant over his disparagement of her native land and exclaimed:
“I wish you’d not talk that way! We’re Americans. I don’t like it!”
“American, be you? So’m I.”
“Oh! well. Course it’s all America, but I mean we’re from—from the States,” as she chanced to recall an expression she had heard.
“From the States, hey? So be I.”
“Yet you say you’ve lived here all your life. If you hadn’t you’d have been more—more liberal—like travel makes people. If you’d once seen New York you wouldn’t think that little Yarmouth was so mighty pretty. A right smart you know about it, anyway!”
“Huh! Gid-dap!” was the scornful rejoinder, as Jehu whirled about on his seat and touched his team to a gallop.
Mrs. Hungerford gave Molly a warning tap, though she was inwardly pleased to find the child so far recovered as to take an interest in defending her own home.
It was rather startling to have an ensuing silence broken by the old driver’s facing about once more and declaring with great glee:
“You ain’t no New Yorker, so you needn’t be touchy about that little village. You’re from down south.”