“Well, then, if you try, perhaps you can teach Aunt Alice something that she wants very much to know.”
“What!” exclaimed Budge. “A little boy teach a grown folks lady? I guess I’ll stay.”
“I want to understand all about this difference between your Uncle Harry and me,” continued Mrs. Burton. “Do you think you minded him very well last summer?”
“That’s too long ago for me to remember,” said Budge “But I didn’t ever mind him unless I wanted to, or else had to, an’ when I had to an’ didn’t want to I didn’t love him a bit. I talked to papa about it when we got back home again, an’ he said ’twas ’cause Uncle Harry didn’t know us well enough an’ didn’t always have time to find out all about us. Then they had a talk about it—papa and Uncle Harry did, in the library one day. I know they did, ’cause I was playin’ blocks in a corner, an’ I just stopped a-playin’ an’ listened to ’em. An’ all at once papa said, ‘Little pitchers!’s an’ said I’d oblige him very much if I’d go to the store and buy him a box of matches. But I just listened a minute after I went out of the room, until I heard Uncle Harry say he’d been a donkey. I knew he was mistaken about that, so I went back an’ told him he hadn’t ever been any animals but what’s in a menagerie, an’ then they both laughed an’ went out walkin’, an’ I don’t know what they said after that. Only Uncle Harry’s been awful good to me ever since, though sometimes I bother him when I don’t mean to.”
Mrs. Burton released one arm from her nephew and rested her head thoughtfully upon her hand. Budge looked up and exclaimed:
“There! You’re looking that way again. Say, Aunt Alice, don’t Uncle Harry love you lots an’ lots when you look so?”
Mrs. Burton recalled evidence of such experiences, but before she could say so a small curly head came cautiously around the edge of the door, and then it was followed by the whole of Toddie, who exclaimed:
“I fink you’s a real mean bruvver, Budgie! De tea-party’s been all ready for you an’ de cake till I had to eat up all de strawberries to keep de nasty little ants from eatin’ ’em. I yet up de cabbage-leaf plate dey was in, too, to keep me from gettin’ hungrier.”
“There!” exclaimed Budge, springing from his aunt’s lap.” That’s just the way, whenever I’m lovin’ to anybody, somethin’ always goes and happens.”
“Is that all you care for your aunt, Budge?” asked Mrs. Burton. “Is a tea-party worth more than me?”