"I admit my error. Fancy my calling that manly little fellow such names! A boy of the best type, Sarah; an out-and-out boy."
"Anybody can see that. I don't take any credit to myself for seeing just what kind of a boy he is, for honesty, sincerity and loveableness shine right out on his bright little face, bless him!"
"That is true, Sarah. Still, I believe that the first day he came you said you didn't take any stock in him—how is that?"
"Quite a different thing. But I can't waste my time here; I've something to do elsewhere," and Sarah hurried away, leaving the General smiling broadly.
Once in awhile, as often as a very wicked man has a good impulse, let us say, the General enjoyed a quiet laugh at the expense of his housekeeper, and it made him feel at peace with all mankind. It was in a very agreeable frame of mind, therefore, that he sought his library and picked up what he believed to be a book of the Æneid, opened it at random, and at a passage that was worse than Greek to him. It was:
"Wednesday—I wish I had never tried to be a Boy. I drilled this morning with Uncle Harold and a dreadful rifle. I blistered my hands, carrying the gun that wanted to explode and kill everybody, and my heels marching front rank obleek."
"Bless me!" exclaimed the General; then he read the next entry.
"Thursday.—I don't mind drilling with a rifle that has cotton wool in it. I wish Gay was here and I was in Hazelnook. I don't like to deceve. Uncle H. half-and-half likes me; Sarah and Fillis like me. I wish I could have a dress like Fillises and Miss Sarah's. When I am a girl again I shall ask mother if I may have one, and wear a little apron and a kerchief, and have a bunch of kees. I have two kees of my own, and Gay might let me have the kee to his tool chest; then he would know where it was. I don't think my uncle is very hospityable; but, maybe, that is my punishment for letting him think I am a boy. They got punished in Bible times, for things they did—grasshoppers like a cloud and lots more; and I think people get punished now—not grasshoppers, perhaps, because there aren't enough now to go round. There is a tiny, wee chest in the attic filled with a little girl's clothes. I put them all on. It seemed good and very natcheral, too, although the dresses must be a hundred and seventy-five years old, at least. I like knickerbockers. I rode bareback on old Kate, the roan mare, yesterday, and climbed to the top of the tree in the corner of the garden, and I did it a great deal easier than I could in skirts.
"P. S.—I musn't forget the officer's salute."