As I was sitting on the piazza the other evening, watching the sunset and listening to the chirp of the birds, a boy passed along the sidewalk, and as he looked up and saw me, he touched his hat and smiled and said, “Good evening, Miss B.” I smiled back and answered him, and as he passed on I thought about him. Why did I think about him?
“Because he was so pleasant to you.”
Can you tell what I thought?
“You thought he was good.”
“You thought he was a nice boy.”
Why did I think so?
“Because he touched his hat.”
“Because he smiled.”
“Because he said, ‘Good evening, Miss B.’”