Through a disposition to take even names easily and avoid in all cases any unnecessary exertion, Mrs. Doty’s pronunciation was adopted at once, which was perhaps the principal reason for a fanciful change being made not long afterwards.
Against “F’lishyer” Tom rebelled loudly and without ceasing, but without effect.
The fanciful change came about and was adopted in this wise. In the course of a couple of weeks the box of little garments arrived from Barnesville, accompanied by a warm-hearted note from Jenny Rutherford.
The unpacking of the box—which was not a large one, though it seemed to contain an astonishing number of things, most of them of great length and elaborateness—was to Tom a singularly exciting event, so exciting that he found himself wondering and not at all sure that he understood it.
When he opened the box—Mornin standing at his side, her charge in her arms—he did it with tremulous fingers, and when, having laid one article after another in a snowy drift upon the bed, he drew back to look at them, he found it necessary after a few moments’ inspection to turn about and pace the floor, not uneasily, but to work off steam as it were, while Mornin uttered her ejaculations of rapture.
“I never seen nuthin’ like ’em afore, Mars’ D’Willerby,” she said with many excitable giggles. “Dis yer chile’s a-gwine to take the flo’ shore as yo’ bawn! Sich a settin’ out as dat is! She’ll git ter puttin’ on airs afore she’s a year ole. We’ll hev ter give her a settin’ down wunce ’n a while to keep her straight. Mis’ Rutherford, she wus boun’ to do it up in style, she wus!”
Tom took one hand out of his pocket and ruffled his hair with it, and then put it back again.
“Your young mistresses now,” he suggested, “I suppose they are about such things as their mothers made for them.”
“Lordy, dey’s a heap finer, Mars’ D’Willerby—a heap finer! Dey wus rich folks’ chillun, but dey never hed sich a settin’ out as dis yere—not one on ’em.”
“They didn’t?” said Tom, with secretly repressed exultation. “Well, if they didn’t, I guess she’ll do. They are rather nice, I reckon—and I meant they should be. Say, Mornin, suppose you dress her up and let me show her to the boys.”