"Why, Daddy Crow, you silly old goose! You're almost crying!"
"What's that? Now, don't talk like that to me, you little whipper-snapper, er you go to bed in a hurry. I never cried in my life," growled Anderson in a great bluster.
"Well, then, let's talk about something else—me, for instance. Do you know, Daddy Crow, that I'm too strong to live an idle life. There is no reason why I shouldn't have an occupation. I want to work—accomplish something."
Anderson was silent a long time collecting his nerves. "You wouldn't keer to be a female detective, would you?" he asked drily.
CHAPTER X
Rosalie Has Plans of Her Own
"Do be serious, daddy. I want to do something worth while. I could teach school or—"
"Not much! You ain't cut out fer that job. Don't you know that ever'body hates school-teachers when they're growed up? Jerusalem, how I still hate old Rachel Kidwell! An' yet she's bin dead nigh onto thirty years. She was my first teacher. You wasn't born to be hated by all the boys in the district. I don't see what put the idee of work inter your head You got 'bout eight thousand dollars in the bank an'—"
"But I insist that the money is yours, daddy. My fairy godmother paid it to you for keeping, clothing, and educating me. It is not mine."