The oversight was soon remedied, and everything went along all right until Mr. Sanders, taking a spoon in his hand, said to the child:
"Miss Adelaide, I'll bet you and Cally-Lou can't do this."
He placed the spoon so far in his mouth that nothing could be seen but a small part of the handle. Lucindy had to leave the room, and the child laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. When she could control herself, she said, reproachfully:
"Bishop, some day you'll choke yourself—you may ask anybody—and then what will the people do?"
PART II
Far over the hills, the wayward,
White feet of the children run,
Now gleaming in the shadows,
Now glistening in the sun—
And always travelling dayward
As they flit by one by one.
—Vanderlyn's Songs of the Past.
It was curious how much interest Mr. Sanders began to take in the home life that the mere presence of Adelaide brought to old Jonas Whipple's house. He would walk in without knocking, sometimes just about tea-time, and the child would invariably ask him to stay. Then after tea, he would challenge old Jonas for a game of checkers, and Adelaide thought it was great fun to watch them, they were so eager to defeat each other. Mr. Sanders had long been the champion checker-player in that part of the country, and he was very much astonished to find that old Jonas was himself an expert. Sometimes Adelaide would watch the game, and the two men invariably appealed to her to settle any question or doubt that arose, such as which of the two made the last move, or whether old Jonas had slipped a man from the board.