"Will you call me Cousin Margaret?" the girl went on. "And shall I call you Susie, or do you like Susan better?"
Susan not replying, Basil replied for her. "Susan D. we call her; but Puppa calls her Sudden Death when she acts bad; she mostly does act bad."
"Don't neither!" muttered Susan D., scowling.
"Do teither!" retorted both brothers in a breath.
"She ain't shy!" Basil went on. "She's sulky, that's all. Merton's shy, and I ain't. I'll tell you things, when you ask me; they won't, half the time."
"Well, I haven't asked you anything, yet, have I?" said Margaret, smiling, and feeling more at ease with this boy, somehow, than with either of the others. "What can you tell me that is pleasant about them?"
"That's so!" said Basil, and his lips parted suddenly in a smile that positively transfigured his plain face. "Well, Mert's the best boxer, and he can sing and draw. I'm the best runner, of course, 'count of my legs being long, you see." He held up a long, thin leg for Margaret's inspection. "Some fellows called me Spider once, and Susan D. scratched their faces for 'em. She's great at scratching, Susan D. is."
"My dear!" said poor Margaret. "I thought you were going to tell me the pleasant things, Basil."
"Ain't I?" said the boy, innocently. "She was standing up for me, you see. She always stands up for me; Mert is a sne—— well, what I was going to say, she's a pretty good runner, for a girl, and she can shin a rope too, better than any of us. Mert can hang on longest with his teeth."
"What do you mean, child?" cried Margaret, laughing. Basil flashed his brilliant smile on her again.