“Your man, little girl?” Mrs. Dana turned her eyes away.
“Yes’m. Jan-an, she’s a bit queer, you know, Jan-an says the ghost-wind brought him. He only stayed a little while, but things aren’t ever going to be the same again. No’m, not ever! He even liked Jan-an, and most folks don’t––at first. His name is Mr. Northrup, but Jan-an and I call him The Man.”
“And he sang for you?”
“Yes’m. We sang together, marching along––this way!” Noreen swung the hand that held hers. “Do you know––‘Green jacket, red cap’?” she asked.
“I used to. It goes something like this––doesn’t it?
“Up the airy mountain
Down the rustly glen–––
I have forgotten the rest.” Mrs. Dana closed her eyes.
“Oh! that’s kingdiferous,” Noreen laughed with delight. “I’ll sing the rest, then we’ll sing together:
“We daren’t go a-hunting