So they piled the branches upon the back of the dumbly protesting "Californian," Amy retaining the delicate nest and gently shaking the water from it.
"She don't like 'em, does she?"
"Not at all. Idle Pepita likes nothing that is labor. But I love her, even though she's lazy."
"What'll you take for her?"
"Why—nothing."
"Won't swop?"
"No, indeed."
"Why not?"
"Oh! dozens of 'whys.' The idea of my selling Pepita! For one thing, she was a gift."
"Who from?"