"Don't talk any more about it, Jusy," she said. "Do you think Uncle George would build a little house up the cañon for poor old Ysidro?"
"Who!" exclaimed Jusy.
"Oh, you cruel boy!" cried Rea. "You don't think of anything but killing linnets, and such cruel things; I think you are real wicked. Don't you know those poor old Indians we saw yesterday?—the ones that are going to be turned out of their house, down in San Gabriel by the church. I have been thinking about them ever since; and I dreamed last night that Uncle George built them a house. I'm going to ask him to."
"I bet you anything he won't, then," said Jusy. "The horrid old beggars! He wouldn't have such looking things round!"
Rea was wide awake now. She fixed her lovely blue eyes on Jusy's face with a look which made him ashamed. "Jusy," she said, "I can't help it if you are older than I am; I must say, I think you are cruel. You like to kill linnets; and now you won't be sorry for these poor old Indians, just because they are dirty and horrid-looking. You'd look just as bad yourself, if your skin was black, and you were a hundred years old, and hadn't got a penny in the world. You are real hard-hearted, Jusy, I do think you are!" and the tears came into Rea's eyes.
"What is all this?" said Uncle George, coming up the steps. "Not quarrelling, my little people!"
"Oh, no! no!" cried both the children eagerly.
"I never quarrel with Rea," added Jusy proudly. "I hope I am old enough to know better than that."
"I'm only two years the youngest," said Rea, in a mortified tone. "I think I am old enough to be quarrelled with; and I do think you're cruel, Jusy."