"Mine's gingham and I'm not a kid," declared Tess both promptly and with warmth.
"Aw, well, I didn't mean you," explained Sammy. "And why do they call a pony 'calico'?"
This was too much for Tess and she put it up to Agnes.
"Why—now," began the older sister, "you—you know what a calico cat is, Sammy Pinkney?"
"Ye-es," Sammy said it rather doubtfully, however. "That's like Miss Pettingill's got down the street, ain't it?"
"O-o!" cried Tess. "That's all colors, that old cat is!"
"It's sort of mottled and patchy. That's it—patchy!" declared Agnes, seizing the suggestion of "calico" and "patchwork" to make out her case.
"But," complained Tess, "I didn't think the pony would be as many colors as Miss Pettingill's cat. You know she calls him Rainbow."
"Why, the pony is only brown and white—or cream color," Agnes said with more confidence. "And maybe a little pink."
"Ho! ho!" snorted Sammy. "Now you are stringin' us. Who ever heard of a pink horse?"