"We'll have fair weather now, Rhoda."
"And my major will come out, grandma."
"He's my major!" little Dick cried.
"He's my major!" Beatrice asserted.
"No such thing!" I said, turning on them angrily. "He belongs all to me. Don't he, grandma?"
Grandmother did not answer, but I knew that he did. When the twins came, hand-in-hand, down the path to see him, he would pat their fat arms through the spokes of the gate, but it was always I to whom he wished to talk, for I was more of his own age and not a baby like them.
"Baby yourself!" Dick said, when I mentioned this, and slapped me, but it made no difference.
Sometimes the lady from across the way would come over to walk with the major. They were old friends, and had a great deal to talk about. I remember seeing her shake her finger at him when she found him leaning on my gate.
"So you're trying to turn another woman's head!" she cried, gayly.
He wheeled upon her with that sudden straightening of his shoulders that would come so unexpectedly.