"Well, chick," said Thomas, kindly, but more condescendingly than suited Miss Matilda's tastes.
"Neither chick nor child," she answered promptly; though where she got the phrase is a mystery, as indeed is the case with almost all the sayings of such children.
"What are you, then? A fairy?"
"If I was, I know what I would do. Oh, wouldn't I just! I should think I would!"
"Well, what would you do, little Miss What's-your-name?"
"My name is Miss Kitely; but that's neither here nor there. Oh, no! it's not me! Wouldn't I just!"
"Well, Miss Kitely, I want to know what you would do if you were a fairy?"
"I would turn your eyes into gooseberries, and your tongue into a bit of leather a foot long; and every time you tried to speak your long tongue would slap your blind eyes and make you cry."
"What a terrible doom!" returned Thomas, offended at the child's dislike to him, but willing to carry it off. "Why?"
"Because you've made Miss Burton's eyes red, you naughty man! I know you. It must be you. Nobody else could make her eyes red but you, and you go and do it."