“One of the big girls fainted away,” she added, “and they laid her on the floor and told me to bring a dipper of water; but my hand shook so I spilled it all over my apron, and she came to before we got more. I was very timid.”
He began on another cooky.
“Did you have two pigtails? And striped stockings?” he inquired, his eyes fixed reminiscently on the hedge.
She nodded softly.
“And played some game with stones? I can't just remember—”
“It was houses,” she reminded him. “We little girls used to make little houses—just marked out with stones in squares on the ground; and if you boys felt like it, you'd bring us big flat stones to eat our dinner on.”
“Ah, yes!” It all came back to him. “And then you'd race off to get flag-root or something, and—”
“And gobble our dinner as we ran. It was fun, all the same,” she added.
“But what a mite you were, to be in school!” he said wonderingly. “What under heaven did you study?”
“I don't remember at all,” she confessed. “But I suppose I spelled. Do you remember the spelling-matches? And how you big ones wanted to 'leave off head'?”