"I see!" said the man.
"But I 'spect I could make yours, don't you? Should you mind if once I didn't get the spread right, you know?"
"Not a bit. Besides, I don't like spreads. We'll throw it away."
"Oh, let's!" said the child. "Hurrah! Do you say hurrah?"
"Hurrah!" said the man. "Do you mind if I smoke a pipe?"
No, the child did not mind at all. So he brought a most beautiful pipe, and filled and lighted it; then he sat down, and looked at the child thoughtfully.
"I suppose you ought to tell me where you came from," he said. "It isn't half so much fun, but I suppose they will be missing you at home, don't you? Your mamma—"
The child hastened to explain. Her mamma was away, had gone quite away with her papa, and left her, the child, alone with Miss Tyler and the nurse. Now Miss Tyler was no kinds of a person to leave a child wiz; she poked and she fussed, and she said it was shocking whenever you did anything, but just anything at all except sit still and learn hymns. "I hate hymns!" said the child.
"So do I!" said the man, fervently. "It's a pity about Miss Tyler. Where is it you came from, Snow-white?"
"Oh! it's somewhere else; a long way off. I can't go back there. Dwarfs never send people back there; they let them stay and do the work. And I'm almost as big as you are!" the child ended, with a little quaver.